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yuumisagi · 3 years ago

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ENCOUNTERING A COCKROACH !

❦ what happens when they show up?

pick a character ༄ gojo, sukuna, nanami

content. swearing, ooc

notes. i think cockroaches should go extinct . . . anyways this is one of my favorite pieces i've written <3 hope you enjoy

➤ GOJO SATORU

you jump onto the bed as soon as you saw the brown creature crawling up the wall

“SATORU COME HERE QUICK!!! THERE’S A COCKROACH!!”

“The Great Gojo Satoru to the rescue!” he dashed inside and quickly grad the creature with his two fingers

“how- how could you touch that thing with your bare hands-”

“oh no it can’t touch me”

“oh.”

like an annoying prick he is, he leans toward you and wavers the cockroach in front of your face

“EW satoru throw it away”

“huh? i don’t wanna” he pouts and continues to bring it closer to you “hElLo FrIeNd, My NaMe Is CoCkRoAcH”

its squiggly feet and long antenna is delivering chills from the back of your spine

the more you resisted, the more satoru persisted

he even took some pictures of the creature with you being scared af in the background

til the point that tears started to form in your eyes did he realize that he had gone too far

he finally leaned back and took a plastic bag to wrap the dead creature, disposing it in the trash can

“i’m sorry y/n” satoru moved on his knees toward you on the bed as he enveloped you to his chest, hands stroking your hair to calm you down

“you’re mean”

“yes i went too far this time” he kissed u on the top of your head

you wiped your tears on his sweatshirt and looked up at him “you didn’t wash your hands did you?”

“i dispelled the infinity, same thing”

you let out a little scoff while he planted light kisses on your nose to your cheek and forehead

“sorry i made you scared baby” he cupped your face and lightly pinched your cheeks

“but you were so cute tho”

“but it wasn’t fun (._.)”

“i’m sowwyyyy” gojo apologized as he kith you on your puckered lips (bc he was squeezing your cheeks) multiple times

➤ RYOMEN SUKUNA

you and sukuna were just laying on the bed on a peaceful sunday morning, with his arm over your shoulder as you lay your head atop of his chest

it felt so right and weirdly wrong at the same time because who would have thought that sukuna was capable of settling with just ‘laying on the bed’

you wished you could just stay like this for the entire day, until you spotted a brown creature crawling on the closet door

“EEEK— SUKUNA! A COCKROACH!!” he followed your finger as you pointed at the bug

“what? you afraid?”

“of course i AM. they’re disgusting.”

outrageous. he thought. how could you be more afraid of that tiny little brown thing than of him?

“oh my gosh it’s moving on the floor ew!!”

sukuna got up and stepped on the cockroach, killing it on the spot

“wait no- you shouldn’t kill it! it will only attract more cockroaches”

“great. then we can just kill them all” he sat on the floor with his legs crossed, waiting for the its friends to come out

but now it’s noon already and not a single cockroach had came out of their hiding yet

hmph, at least these f*ckers know their place

“sukuna are you hungry? i’ll go make us something to eat”

before even receiving an answer, you went out of the bedroom

he’s dumbfounded. how did you have the audacity to leave him alone just like that ಠ_ಠ

but then “AAAAACK–” your scream made him hurry to the kitchen

a cockroach. again.

sukuna’s mad mad 😠why the heck is this bug messing with his girl ?!

“listen here you low-life. you and you friends get tf out of here before i change my mind and wipe your species into nonexistence”

him talking to a cockroach is weird enough but what’s weirder is how it understood what he said because it started to quiver and crawl out the window

then he turns to look at you with a smug face

“praise me” is written all over his face

okay guess he deserves it “oh my- you’re so scaryy” (your-scared-face.jpeg)

“I KNOW” *laughs like a maniac*

➤ NANAMI KENTO

“i’m home” nanami came back from work a bit later than usual

“welcome home”

you went to the doors and took his vest coat while he took off his shoes

“i already ate but do you wanna eat first or– !!!”

you jumped at the sight of a cockroach on the middle of your way back inside

“what’s wrong love?”

before being able to answer him, the brown thing has fled away, which made it even scarier

“th-there’s a cockroach but it got away…”

you scanned through the floor and freaked out again when you mistook a bag of black hair tie for the creature

noticing your trembling shoulders, nanami carried you in bridal style with his sturdy arms

“tell me when you see it and i’ll get rid of it”

30 minutes passed and no signs of the creature while he’s still carrying you

“maybe it already left. you should eat dinner kento”

“it’s okay. i’ll eat after i catch the bug”

he proceeded to walk around the house in search for the little thing

tired, you leaned your head on his broad chest

he haven’t changed his work clothes yet ’he smells kinda nice’

after-work nanami definitely smells different from early-morning nanami

there’s some smell of sweat mixed with his usual cologne that radiated from his blue shirt

and his heartbeat-

all so calming that you unknowingly fell asleep

when he noticed that you slept, nanami brought you onto bed and tucked you in the blanket

oh my gosh it sounds like he’s babysitting you

of course he checked all the corners of the room for the cockroach first before leaving to shower and eat his dinner at 11pm lol

then he finally got into bed and cuddle with you to recharge his energy for the next day of work

but he took his day off tmr tho :) because he wanted to catch the bug that’s bothering you instead of staying worried at work

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖊 and 𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖙 ? ⇢ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡

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dancingazaleas · 4 years ago

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zeke yeager | pta meeting

i literally don’t know how to shut up about him

also this is all because i saw a drabble of dilf!zeke and it’s been on my mind nonstop

warnings/notes: dilf!zeke, fem!reader, cursing, eventual smut, zeke is a divorced/widowed dad(at 33), reader is 21, cursing, zeke has a mean daughter and a sweet daughter, breeding kink, overstimulation, brief choking, slight degradation, shit one shot i’m sorry

you swear to the lord that zeke’s 11 year old daughter is a menace to society.

she’s brutally honest, just like zeke, and mean. she’s oddly mature for her age, and you think it might have something to do with her late mother. she looks almost nothing like zeke, but she certainly inherited her personality from him. she’s got curly dark brown hair that ends at her armpits and zeke’s grey eyes. she has a button nose along with rosy cheeks, something else she inherited from her mother.

“y��know my daddy only dates you cause you take care of me and aloisia,” isolde says to you as she slips on her school shoes.

you feel your eye twitch as you turn to zeke’s other daughter, aloisia, who’s seven and looks exactly like zeke. she’s got his nose, his hair color, and even eye shape. she’s got hazel eyes and a slim face. she’s as bubbly as they come, always greeting people she passes by on the street, always making friends at the park.

“i’m ready,” she holds up her small hand to you, a silent request for you to hold her hand.

“same,” isolde stands up after she swings her back pack onto her back, brushing off the nonexistent dirt on her navy blue skirt.

“zeke, the girls are ready!!” you shout out, taking aloisia into your arms.

zeke comes stumbling out of his bedroom, a white sleep shirt covering his torso and grey sweatpants.

“you’re going in that,” you raise an eyebrow at his attire, “we’re going to a parent-teacher meeting, not the gym.”

“yeah daddy, my teachers are gonna think you’re a bum or something,” isolde snickers.

“i’ll help your dad, go watch tv for a little bit longer,” you chuckle at zeke’s pout and put down aloisia, who runs to the couch.

isolde takes off her backpack and joins her sister on the couch, putting her feet on the coffee table as aloisia puts on avatar: the last airbender.

“i thought the dress code was casual,” zeke furrows his brows as you take his hand and lead him back into his bedroom.

“it is. sweatpants are not casual, they’re lounge wear,” you snicker as he flops onto the bed while you close the door and go into the closet.

you know zeke’s rolling his eyes at you, judging from his silence. you grab ahold of a white button up with light grey vertical stripes on it, trying to picture your boyfriend in the shirt. you shake your head and put it back on the rack, deciding that the default outfit would be best for now. you take a white button up off the hanger and grab a pair of black dress pants from his dresser. you hand him a pair of black loafers to go along with it and some long black socks that would cover up his ankles, you’re so glad you reminded him that they exist. you throw a black belt next to him as well.

“this is boring.”

“zeke, this is a pta meeting, the whole thing will be boring,” you watch him rid himself of his shirt.

“should i wear a tie?”

“no, you’ll look better with one button undone,” you smile as he struggles to balance correctly when he puts on his pants.

he tucks the shirt inside his pants and slips on the belt with ease. he unbuttons a button before he slips on his socks.

“i thought today was my day off,” he smirks at you while you roll up his cuffs a bit.

you roll your eyes and he slips on his shoes. he doesn’t need to do his hair, it’s just effortlessly neat.

“time to go,” you scurry to the front door with the girls following behind you.

“he doesn’t look homeless anymore,” isolde notes when zeke follows you all out of the door.

“not funny,” he huffs while he locks the door behind him and the girls get into the black SUV zeke drives.

you help aloisia buckle herself up in the car seat and then slip into the passenger’s seat next to zeke. he’s grumbling something about ‘uncle eren’ and ‘getting the girls’ as he turns the car on.

————

you try to ignore the women ogling zeke as you all walk down the school hallway. you send isolde off to her class since her meeting is after aloisia’s.

“i hope you’ve been good,” you say to aloisia, who’s holding both your’s and zeke’s hands.

“i have! ms greene says i’m one of the best,” she gloats, and you hope for zeke’s sake that ms greene isn’t bluffing.

you three walk into the second grade classroom, which is empty because you reserved the appointment, only to find the teacher isn’t in there. it only seems to make aloisia more excited as she tugs you and zeke towards the class wall with a bunch of pictures of it.

“look, look!!” she jumps as she points at her’s, “they said to draw our family and she said i did a good job!!”

the picture is a messily drawn family portrait of zeke, isolde, and aloisia.

“you drew (name) very pretty,” zeke smiles at you when you snap your head back to look at the picture in closer detail.

there you are, stick figure holding hands with zeke’s and aloisia with isolde on zeke’s other side. you never expected to be on aloisia’s family portrait, you’d barely been in her life for two years and weren’t exactly motherly. you’re a struggling college student that she occasionally sees crying at the kitchen table with zeke comforting you from behind. she, on very rare occasions, sees you come home, absolutely plastered, with a sober zeke leading you to his room. you’re the woman that wakes her up when you cry on the couch late at night. you were, admittedly, okay with not being seen as their mom.

it wasn’t your place, for so many reasons. one, you didn’t exactly act as a role model. two, you could never replace her mother and would never try. three, zeke never referred to you as such. you’d only ever act like their mother whenever you were in certain situations. but that didn’t mean you didn’t want them to see you as a maternal figure.

it made you want to cry, but luckily you didn’t. you just smile at the picture and pat aloisia’s head in approval.

“you did do a very good job,” you smile down at her and before you can give her a hug, you notice a woman walking into the room.

“oh, you must be zeke yeager, aloisia’s dad! i’m ms greene,” her face flushes while she holds out her hand for him to shake.

“yea, that’s me. it’s nice to meet you,” he shakes her hand.

she turns to you, “oh my goodness, i didn’t know aloisia and isolde had an older sister!”

“no, she’s my girlfriend of two years,” zeke chuckles uncomfortably.

“i’m (name), nice to meet you,” you wave your hand, “i’m just here to keep an eye on aloisia while you two talk.”

zeke and her go to a table in the corner of the room and aloisia drags you towards a bookshelf.

thirty minutes of aloisia rambling about her favorite book go by seemingly quick, and you watch as she cheers when her classmates walk into the room. zeke’s walking towards you, holding a thumbs up with a cocky smile, for whatever reason.

you kiss aloisia goodbye, who doesn’t seem too fazed, and head towards isolde’s classroom. you hold hands with zeke while swinging them back and forth while he repeats everything the teacher’s said to him.

“i can’t believe my little girl’s at a third grade reading level,” he exclaims, “that vocabulary studying did wonders!!”

“you should thank me since i was the one who studied with her cause she asked about my assignments for class,” you taunt and laugh when zeke pulls you closer by the shoulder.

that’s how the two of you walk into isolde’s classroom. she’s sitting at a table with her teacher, miss dunst, and fidgeting with her thumbs anxiously. she’s covering half of her face with her hair. with the one eye you can see it looks puffy and her cheeks are red, as if she’d been crying.

it has both you and zeke rushing to sit down on both side of her, zeke asking miss dunst what happened while you tend to isolde.

“hey, why are you crying,” you’re squatting by her chair and you reach to brush the hair out of her face.

when you see her other eye, you gasp out at the black eye starting to form on her eye.

“oh my god, zeke, look at her face!!”

“that is what i wanted to speak about with you. isolde has been getting bullied by some of her classmates. today, a little girl hit her after isolde defended herself while they argued,” the poor woman looks sad watching you and zeke check isolde for more wounds.

“why has she been bullied? she’s not mentioned this to me or (name),” zeke asks while examining her eye more closely.

“well, during the first day of school, isolde introduced herself and told the class about her family. she mentioned you, mr yeager, and her sister. the kids asked about her mother before i could stop them and she was honest with them and said that she had passed. she then said that she still, in a way, had a mother. your girlfriend, mr yeager.

“i asked her occupation, to which isolde said a college student. the kids got loud but i managed to quiet them down, and i thought it was the end of that. after that, her classmates started to pick on her verbally about your age gap and her late mother. i didn’t find out about it until this morning when isolde was hit,” miss dunst frowns as she explains.

before zeke could open his mouth, you speak up, “i’m the girlfriend, (name). i am hoping that these children will be punished accordingly and that their parents be notified. if this has really been going on all year like you say, then at this point their parents should be involved.”

“of course! i’m giving all of their parents a call after classes today. the little girl who hit her is sitting down with the principal right now, so she should be safe if you two would like her to stay at school.”

“give us a moment,” you smile kindly, which she returns, and walks to her desk to give you ‘privacy’.

“isolde, why didn’t you tell your daddy or i about what was going on,” you ask while she hugs zeke.

she peeks her head out of his chest, “didn’t want to seem weak.”

“why would you be worried about that,” zeke asks.

“after mom died, you were always so sad and stressed. i thought that if i was strong, you would be happier,” she explains shakily.

“isolde, look at me,” you put a hand on her knee, “you were six years old when your mommy died. six year olds shouldn’t know how to accurately take care of themselves, it’s why your daddy was there. i’m sure your daddy appreciated the effort, but i promise you that all he wanted you to be was his happy little girl. you don’t need to be strong at 11 years old, and you don’t need to be strong all the time. like you said, your daddy was sad when your mom died. it didn’t make him weak, it made him a person. and that’s what you are; a person. a little person.”

she sniffles and nods at you, “people can’t do everything by themselves. i’m sorry if we made it feel like you couldn’t tell us, and it’s totally understandable that you felt that way.”

zeke hums in agreement, “we love you, baby. so much.”

“love you too,” she mumbles with a small smile.

“do you want to stay at school,” zeke asks, he didn’t want to force her into a situation where she didn’t want to be.

“i have a math test later, don’t wanna miss it,” she sighs, now looking up at you.

“(name)...?”

you tilt your head while you wait for her answer.

“i’m sorry i’ve been so mean to you. everyone was making fun of me and called it weird, so i guess i wanted to believe that too,” your heart warms whenever she looks away shyly.

great, now zeke’s horny from seeing you act motherly.

————

ever since you and zeke had stepped off school campus, one of his hands was always touching you. it didn’t matter where, zeke was shameless.

even as you unlock the door to the his house, he has his chest pressed against your back and his arms wrapped around your waist. his lips are kissing softly at your neck and his hands are shamelessly groping at your boobs.

“zeke, what is up with you,” you laugh whenever you open the door, kicking off your shoes immediately.

“horny,” he admits, swiftly following after you and locking the door behind himself.

“what about this morning made you horny,” you ask shyly while you sit on the couch.

zeke’s buttons are halfway undone and his belt is somewhere on the floor. he squeezes in behind you, once again pressing his chest against your back.

“acting maternal, i guess,” his beard tickles the back of your neck as he kisses it.

“is this why you told isolde it was okay if she wanted to stay at school,” you snicker at his fingers pulling your shirt over your head.

“why else,” he scoffs, “my only day off in a while and i’m horny. sounds like a deal.”

you whimper whenever he starts biting at your neck and when his large hands slip under your bra.

“zeke, if we’re gonna do it on the couch, can i at least lay on my back,” you ask while zeke unclips your bra.

without a word, he’s thrown you onto the couch on your back and climbing on top of you seconds later. your hands quickly unbutton the rest of his shirt, pushing it halfway off of his body.

zeke throws the shirt onto the floor and kisses you, hands running up and down your torso. he pulls away to kiss and suck at your neck while his hands grope at your tits. you’re stuck between laughing and moaning at zeke’s beard dragging against your neck.

his mouth trails down to your tits, mouth attaching to your left tit while he continues to grope your right one. you let out a moan whenever he tweaks your nipple with his right hand and bites softly at your left nipple.

he pulls away from your chest, tugging off your pants and panties in frustration. it leaves you laughing and assisting him. whenever your pants do come off, he throws them to the ground and spreads your legs.

“zeke, they’re not opening too far, we’re on a couch,” you note, but soon stand corrected as zeke grabs your ankle and puts it on the back of the couch.

“nevermind,” you snicker at his cocky smirk, as if he’d done something amazing.

your other leg hangs off the couch, leaving you spread open for zeke. zeke spreads open your glistening folds with thumbs and gives a mindful lick up to your clit. after realizing that his beard is not rubbing against you uncomfortably, he dives in like it’s a pool, which he thinks it is because of how wet you are.

his mouth his sucking on your clit vigorously, as if he were a man starved. you’re moaning wantonly as he suddenly ups the speed. how did he even go that fast, you have no clue, but either way you enjoy it. your back in arching off of the couch and your toes are curling as zeke starts bringing you closer to an orgasm.

“zeke!! i’m... i’m gonna come,” you tug at his hair as your legs start to convulse and close around his head.

he only goes faster, and you wonder to yourself if zeke is powered by batteries or something. but the thought is quickly shut off whenever you finally orgasm, moaning out in ecstasy and throwing your head back against the couch cushions.

zeke slows down his pace, helping you ride through your orgasm. he pulls away whenever you’ve calmed down, fingers immediately pressing at your tight entrance.

“zeke... i-i’m too sensitive,” your complaint goes ignored as two of zeke’s fingers are suddenly inside of you.

“don’t care, deal with it,” he huffs as his fingers stretch you out.

with his other hand, his thumb is rubbing at your puffy clit at the same time of his fingers curling inside of you. your hips buck up with a mewl and zeke chuckles at the sight. unlike last time, he’s moving his tantalizingly slow.

his fingers curl once more, rubbing against the spongy part inside of you sweetly. you buck your hips up again at the contact and curl your toes whenever zeke starts abusing that spot with overwhelming speed. curling his fingers against the spot each time he pistons his fingers in and out of you.

“zeke!!” you come again while moaning his name and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

zeke chuckles when he pulls his fingers out, spreading them apart to watch your juices stick together in strings. he plops the fingers in his own mouth, rubbing his other hand up and down your quivering thigh as he pulls away from your sloppy cunt.

he pulls his fingers out of his mouth with an obnoxious ‘pop’ and pulls off his pants and boxers at the same time. he groans at his cock hitting against his lower stomach.

you stare at zeke’s cock. the tip is flushed with a bashful pink and his hair is trimmed nicely against his groin. he’s more girth than he is length, a whopping 6.5 inches, which is something he absolutely gets arrogant about.

“hurry,” you huff while watching zeke fist his cock.

“nah, you gotta beg for it, baby,” the corner of his mouth tugs upwards as he watches you wipe away your tears from the previous orgasm.

“zeke,” you whine and wiggle your hips, “please please please give me your cock. need it so bad.”

he hums thoughtfully, and it already gives you his answer.

“please... i want it so bad, need to be fucked by you,” you pout but perk up at his dismissive shrugging.

“since you want it so bad,” he’s laughing while he puts his right hand on your pelvis and his other on his shaft to enter you.

you gasp at the feeling of him pushing inside of you, grabbing for his, now, free hand. when you catch his hand, you guide it to your bruised neck for him to grasp on. he’s chuckling once again, fingers lightly squeezing against your throat as he continues to push himself in.

he groans whenever he bottoms out, letting go of your neck to grab at your plush thighs. he pushes the towards your chest and thrusts into you shallowly after he spits on his cock buried in your pussy. he hits you deeper than he would’ve before, that much is obvious by your moans raising octaves when he starts to thrust roughly.

your hands reach up to grab the back of his thighs to pull him closer to you than before. he’s groaning at the feeling of your pussy squeezing onto him each time he pulls out and thrusts back into you.

“fuck... zeke!!” you cry and throat your head back.

“fuck,” he grunts, “you’re so fuckin’ tight. even after how much i fuck this pretty little cunt each week.”

his words make you whimper and squeeze your grip on his thighs, making crescent moons into the skin.

“i’m gonna come... i’m gonna come again,” you pant out, back already starting to arch, “come with me please..!”

he speeds up his thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass getting increasingly louder as he does so.

“you wanna come with me so badly,” he asks tauntingly while you nod.

“god, zeke, please,” you try to ignore the saliva and tears on your face as you continue to scream out for zeke.

“i’ll give my sweet girl my cum since she asked so nicely,” he’s biting his lip whenever he feels his orgasm getting closer.

“yes! yes! please,” you sound so desperate as your orgasm gets closer, “zeke, please, fuck a baby into me, please..!”

zeke almost comes right then at your pleas, but ends up stilling and adjusting his stance to thrust into you more efficiently. the sudden stop makes you whine but it’s soon interrupted with a gasp as he jackhammers into you harder and faster than before.

“fuckin’ whore, wanting me to fuck a baby into you. to make you a mom. since you asked so nicely, i’ll oblige,” he berates.

“you me to fuck a baby into you? make you a mom?” it has you nodding frantically.

zeke continues to degrade you as you’re orgasm comes rushing towards you, fingers now clawing at his thighs as a signal.

zeke thrusts into you two more times before the two of you manage to orgasm simultaneously. his jackhammering slows into a grind, helping the two of you ride out the euphoria you’ve both just went through.

you whimper whenever he pulls out, uncomfortable at the sudden emptiness in you. he watches his cum start to dribble out of you, telling you to keep your legs up. he scurries off to find a paper towel or something to wipe it up with before it falls onto the couch. you shiver whenever you feel a wet cloth wipe away the dribbling cum.

he’s wiping down your chest and neck as well with a clean side of it after you put your legs down. he carries you off into his bathroom, sitting you on the counter while he readies the shower.

“i can’t believe you said that,” he raises a questioning eyebrow at you while he checks the water’s temperature.

“i wouldn’t mind having your kid,” you shrug and watch him put two towels on the counter next to you.

“i might just give you one, don’t say that,” he jokes as he starts to hug you.

“‘m okay with that,” you sigh and lean into his touch, enjoying his warmth.

“you’re stupid,” he snorts and kisses at your shoulder.

“only for you,” you snuggle your head into his neck with a giggle.

“i love you,” he sighs.

“i love you. enough to have your kids.”

maybe in a few hours when you weren’t bathing in the afterglow, zeke would bring it up to you.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke x you #shingeki no kyojin zeke #zeke yeager x reader #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger #attack on titan zeke #zeke smut #zeke aot #tw: breeding

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shadowsinger11 · 4 years ago

Text

Insomniacs In Love

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Description: Wrote this ficlet for @wand3ringr0s3 's writing challenge. Congrats on your milestone, Haley!! I'm so proud of ya and ily so much girl💕💕

Warnings: Brief descriptions of war

Tags: @spilled-prose @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads

Message me to be added!

Masterlist

The white ceiling was staring right back at you.

Your tired eyes had no strength to fight back the hot trail of bitter tears rolling down your cheeks and falling on your pillow. The heavy, cold sheets, tangled between your legs, shrivelled even more under you as you struggled to ease your anxious mind into sleep, but every blink would bring images of explosions and unmoving bodies. The intrusive smell of blood and rotting flesh had been ingrained into your brain for years; the earsplitting, violent screams of terror had become nothing more than a background noise.

Adults and children were fighting side by side, desperately holding onto whatever hope for a future they might have had. The fresh summer soil was soaked in blood, old and young; with a burning passion, you prayed to whoever could hear you, that you wouldn't spot the faces of your loved ones in the sea of corpses that stretched out far into the distance.

There was chaos, and in between - grim visions of morning light.

You couldn't fall asleep, not when you could still vividly picture that night as though it had just been yesterday. Years later, the memory didn't fail to turn you into its slave every time you'd close your eyes.

The moon was wide awake. The air seemed to not be enough for you and the buzzing silence had nearly driven you to the point of insanity when you finally jumped out of your bed. The sharp moonlight caused your silhouette to dance as you walked barefoot out of your bedroom.

It was eerily unsettling to be strolling down the hallway of Fred and George's apartment without being bombarded by cheerful laughter and occasional explosions - there was only creaking of wooden stairs as you walked down to the kitchen. You poured yourself a full glass of cold water and immediately downed it entirely, hoping it would shake off the anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

You took a refill for just in case and sat beside the small kitchen table. You let out a deep breath and rested your head in your palms, shoulders heavy as if the carried the world.

A gentle voice nearly caused you to knock over the glass.

"Trouble sleeping?"

You looked up from your lap to see George standing by the doorway, hands in the pockets of his pajamas. His spiky hair and sleepy gaze let you know he had just woken up, but his expression immediately softened when he noticed your tearful eyes.

You smiled as best as you could, "You have no idea."

George approached you and sat beside you. He moved closer to try to take a better look at your distressed face; he didn't miss the stiffness of your body and the puffiness of your bloodshot eyes. The sight sent an electric shock through him and his heart began to ache.

"You're pretty shaken up, darling. What's wrong?" He asked just above a whisper, as though he was afraid he'd scare you away. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and you leaned into his touch, seeking some kind of warmth.

How could you explain to him you were still being haunted by the past? It had been years, why were you still chained by sorrow? You hated yourself for letting it settle in your bones, for not being able to return to the person you once used to be.

George was unharmed and so was his family. You were too. There was no logical reason for you to be thinking about it. Nevertheless, your nightmares were the reason you'd wake up every night in cold sweat, limbs of lead. Yet George didn't know a thing.

"It's nothing to worry about," you assured him despite your stomach twisting at the lie you had just spat out. "Just bad dreams."

"You seem to get a lot of those lately," George stated sympathetically; he could always read you so effortlessly. The sudden vulnerability caused you to shrink further into your chair, a fresh tear rolling down your cheek.

Your friend wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and hummed.

"That's alright. So do I."

"How do you know this about me?" you questioned, more confused rather than embarrassed.

His lips curled up in a tiny, sad smile, "You're not the only one wandering the house at night, sweetheart."

"I didn't know you still dream of… of it," you let out in a moment of realization. You didn't have to say what exactly you were referring to - you shared the same tragic memory.

"Yes, I do," he murmured. "Every night."

Your eyes met his dark brown ones and your heart sank; they were just as tortured as yours, and lacked the spark they once possessed. Never had you believed George would have to feign joy in his lifetime, he was the source of joy to everyone around him. But how could you expect flowers to bloom in a garden that's been burned to the ground?

Silence fell over you. Your eyes burned again.

"You should try to get some sleep," George advised, attempting to mask his hoarse voice, shaking ever so slightly. Your face fell. "I know it might be hard, but you can't risk getting a headache in the morning, you know."

The moon was still shining brightly through the window, illuminating his concerned face and the tears that had already formed in his eyes.

You swallowed hard.

"You're right. But I don't really want to go. It's just…" you sighed. Your hands were trembling. "It feels kinda lonely up there."

George nodded in understanding; there was no judgement in the way he observed you. He himself had spent way too many cold, sleepless nights. Fighting the same demons as you.

It hurt him beyond measure to know you too were being held hostage by the weight of the past; the past which was robbing you both of your future. But what hurt him more was his inability to help you. He desperately yearned to heal you of your misery and hear your laughter, the laughter that had made him fall for you long before he even knew what love was.

The redhead was suddenly struck by an idea and his shoulders relaxed, a small smile causing his dimple to appear.

"I can go to bed with you, if that's okay with you, of course. Only until you fall asleep, that is. Then I'll go back to my room."

Your instinctive reaction was to refuse, but you stopped yourself before you could respond. Surely it wouldn't be so bad to have company, would it? It didn't seem like George was only doing it out of pity either; he genuinely cared about you and had your best interest in mind.

"You can say no, it's fine," said George when he didn't receive a reply. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's okay with me, I promise," you mirrored his smile. "Shall we go?"

You rose to your feet and headed towards your bedroom upstairs, George following closely behind. He couldn't recall a previous time when he had been in there, and he was pleasantly surprised to see how you had changed the design to your liking after you had moved in to live with the twins. The room looked cozy and truly felt like... you.

You were the first to climb into the bed and scooted over to make room for George's long legs. The mattress sank under his weight and he pulled the covers over the two of you, making sure he didn't take too much of them. George then rolled over to the opposite side, not wishing to invade your personal space.

Despite being taken aback by his action, you did the same - if that was the closest you'd get to being together with him, so be it.

You pulled the blanket over your shoulder and closed your eyes, but alas, your lungs constricted with anxiety. The intrusive silence let your mind wander back to memories you had been trying so hard to push away. The empty space behind your back was cold.

Less than an hour later, you were still as awake as you could be. Your friend was a quiet sleeper and thus you had no idea if he was asleep yet or if he was about to drift off. Nevertheless, you still felt guilty for whispering.

"Georgie?"

Rustling in the bedsheets.

"Hm?"

You wettened your lips and timidly asked, "Can I hold your hand?... For just a bit?"

George turned around and you expected to see him scowl for being woken up like that, especially for a thing as silly as your request. But you were met with such a fond expression, immense care swimming in his eyes.

Any sleepiness was nonexistent on his features; he couldn't fall asleep either.

"Of course," he smiled and lifted your hand to press a tender kiss to your wrist. His soft lips stayed there, pulse racing madly underneath, and the warmth lingered on the skin long after George pulled away and placed your hand on his chest. You let out a quiet gasp when you felt his own heart hammering against his ribs.

His other hand slid down to your waist and pulled you closer. You buried your face in his neck.

You could finally breathe.

He began tracing lazy patterns on your lower back. "Better?"

"Better."

George's fingers lightly grazed your skin, slow and gentle touch never once stopping its loving path. Drowsiness welcomed you much sooner than you had expected and your eyes fluttered closed. The last thing you remembered was George's lips on your eyelids.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep your demons at bay at least for just one night. George gave into slumber as well, both of you engulfed by divine serenity until the bright moon hid behind the horizon.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

#wand3ring1.9kchallenge #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader insert #george weasley imagine #george weasley fic #george weasley headcanon #george weasley fanfiction #fred and george weasley #fred and george #weasley twins #oliver phelps #james phelps #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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ectoentity · 3 years ago

Text

Warped Mirror

Decided to write something based vaguely on the “Spork AU” idea. Instead of Episode 1 Danny meeting Episode 50+ Danny, though, I was curious about a Danny who never became Phantom meeting one who had. This first part is just establishing Human!Danny’s world.

I’ll post it to AO3 when I have the rest of it finished.

---

Three kids stood before a giant machine in the shape of a door. It should have been humming along and glowing green, with a great hole to another world in the middle. Instead, it was cold and silent.

“They spent years working on it,” Danny explained, “and then nothing. Mom and Dad have been moping in their room all day.”

Tucker looked around at the portal and the hodgepodge of computer parts attached to it. “It’s probably a loose wire somewhere. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

“In the meantime, this would make for an awesome picture,” Sam said with a smile. She held up her polaroid camera.

“Oh no, you’re not getting me anywhere near that,” Tucker immediately walked away from the portal.

“Come on! When they get this thing working we’ll never be allowed near it. Besides, it’s not like it’s going to do anything right now.”

“Then why don’t you get over there and let one of us take the picture?” Tucker asked.

“Because neither of you know anything about lighting or framing a shot. Please?” When she saw that Tucker was not going to budge, she looked over at Danny with wide, pleading eyes.

He looked anxiously at the portal. So far none of his parents’ inventions had really worked, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t dangerous. Still, Sam was right. It was pretty cool, and getting a picture with the thing could be a good way to keep a memory.

“Yeah, okay, let me put on a jumpsuit in case there’s a live wire or something.”

Ten minutes later he was suited up in the white-and-black safety jumpsuit his parents had made for him. It wasn’t really a hazardous materials outfit - there was no full hood or respirator, or even goggles. It was made of something that was supposed to repel ectoplasm and certain chemicals that his parents used and was insulated against minor shocks, so it would have to do.

“Oh, no no. I’m not taking your picture while you’re wearing that,” Sam announced. Danny was about to argue, but she reached over and pulled the sticker of his dad’s face off of the suit. “Now you’re good.”

Danny laughed. “Good thinking, Sam. Wouldn’t want to be immortalized in your photos with that on me.” He walked up to the portal. It was a massive piece of machinery, nearly six feet in diameter and deep enough to fit a car. He paused at the entrance. It was hard to imagine it as anything other than a creepy machine in the basement. If it had worked, it would have opened into a whole other world.

Tucker, meanwhile, was watching while anxiously tapping a foot. He had expected Danny to give in to Sam’s pleas. He was so predictable and utterly clueless. One of these days they would both realize that they were both desperately crushing on each other and they’d-

There was something plugged into the wall. Tucker wasn’t sure what it was, but he had a bad feeling about it.

“Hold up!” he shouted. Tucker went over and unplugged the cord from the wall outlet, and checked around for more outlets just in case. When he didn’t find anything else, he called back, “Okay, I think it’s alright now.”

“Good thinking, Tuck,” Danny’s voice echoed in the portal. “Hey, Sam, is this good?”

Sam set up her shot. “Looks great! Just hold there a second.” She counted down before the flash went off. The camera whirred and produced a polaroid. “Lemme take a couple more,” she said before swiftly doing so from slightly different angles. “That should be good!”

Danny started to walk out of the portal. Something caught his foot. He tripped and fell backwards, flailing his arms wildly in hopes that he would catch something. His right hand hit the side of the portal. It stabilized him for a second, but then the wall clicked. Danny stared down at his hand, a chill lancing up his spine. He hadn’t hit the wall. His hand was resting on a button marked “ON.”

“Oh my god,” he blurted.

“Danny? Are you okay?” Sam called. He could hear them both scrambling toward the portal.

“I’m good! I just tripped!” Danny got out of the portal as fast as he could. “My parents put the on/off buttons on the inside! If Tucker hadn’t unplugged it…” All three teens stared at the portal. Danny could have died, just for tripping over a stupid wire.

Finally Tucker gulped and broke the silence. “Want to see if your parents can get it to work now?”

Danny shook himself out of it. “Yeah! I’ll go ask if they forgot about that.”

They all but ran out of the lab.

---

The Fenton RV sped down the street, ghost alarms blaring. In the back, Danny got his weapons together as quickly as he could with all the jostling and swerving. They’d let Dad drive; time was of the essence.

“A level six!” Jack crowed from the driver’s seat. “Maybe even a seven! How long’s it been since we saw one like that?”

“About four months,” Danny grumbled. He still vividly remembered when the town had been drawn into the Ghost Zone and besieged with an army of skeleton constructs. He was not looking forward to a repeat of that hell. The Fenton Blaster in his hands whined as he attached the power source.

“We’ll have to be careful, Jack,” Mom cautioned as she always did. “We don’t have the Ecto-Skeleton this time.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t call in the Guys in White?” Danny asked. They might not be the best ghost hunters, but they did have a lot more firepower.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Danny! I’m sure we can take care of this before they even notice something’s happening. Besides, your mom and I are still dealing with the paperwork from the last time they showed up.”

Danny shuddered. He was extremely glad that he didn’t have to deal with that aspect of ghost hunting.

His dad pulled up to the mall with a loud honk of the horn and squealing tires. Danny and his mom ran out, blasters held at the ready. Dad backed them up with one of the Fenton Bazookas.

The mall was already evacuated. Some people milled around outside, anxiously talking amongst themselves. In the year and a half since the ghosts had started attacking the town, people had gotten frustratingly complacent about them. The invasion a few months back had shown most people just how dangerous they could be, but a stubborn few always were more concerned with getting good pictures than their own safety.

“Make way!” Mom shouted. “We’re here to take care of the ghost!” The crowd at least did part for them. A few people shouted at them. Some of it was words of support. A few tried to describe what they had seen - it was green, it was wearing all white, it was terrifying. Only a few made jokes or jeered at the Fentons as they passed. That was annoying, but it was a hell of a lot better than it had been a year ago.

The deserted mall was an eerie sight. Everyone had left in a hurry, leaving lights on and store music still echoing through empty halls. The Fentons’ footsteps seemed far too loud. The weirdest part was that everything seemed intact. When the technology ghost raided the mall he usually left trails of rubble and discarded packaging everywhere. The box ghost would leave piles of everything that he dumped out of his beloved boxes. Various other ghosts had attacked the mall in the past, and they almost always left signs of their passing. Why was this one different?

“Come out, ghost!” Dad shouted, his voice easily carrying through the empty mall. “Let’s make this quick!”

“Curious.” The voice was quiet, but had the same unnatural echo of all ghosts. Danny held up his blaster, but he couldn’t tell where the voice had come from. Beside him, his mom turned on her miniature Fenton Finder. It beeped alarmingly quickly.

“Two o’clock!” Mom shouted as she fired. Danny was only a moment slower, trying to fire a little ahead. The blasts didn’t connect with anything.

“I mean no harm,” the ghost said. Its voice was way too close for comfort. Danny turned to his right and shot where he thought it was, but he still missed.

“What do you want?” Danny asked. He didn’t really care. No matter what their obsessions were, ghosts only ever wanted to spread chaos and pain. Still, sometimes he could distract them by talking back.

The ghost appeared in front of them. It was tall, with dark, green-tinged skin and a lighter beard. Its eyes glowed a soft yellow. A white robe and hood covered most of its body, rippling in a nonexistent breeze.

A green beam from the Fenton Bazooka blasted towards the ghost. Its torso split apart to allow the beam to go through it. Danny grimaced. It was so gross when they did that. He followed his dad’s lead and started shooting the ghost. The ghost blocked all of his and Mom’s shots with a series of small green shields.

“This is entirely unnecessary,” the ghost huffed. It had the audacity to look bored.

“Then why not just go back to the Ghost Zone and leave us alone?” Danny shouted, annoyed. He ran off to the side, flanking the ghost. It finally started dodging the ectoblasts. If anything, though, the ghost just looked amused.

“Oh, I shall. First, though…” The ghost flung its hand out towards Danny. He winced, anticipating the burn of ectoblasts. He took a step back and his foot sank. With a shout, he fell into the glowing green portal that had opened right behind him.

#Warped Mirror #danny phantom #danny phantom fanfic #my writing

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dakotacrisis · 3 years ago

Text

Topsy Turvy (2)

Welp, I guess I am expanding on this. I may have already been planning to write a part 2 but I wasn’t expecting to do it this quickly. While I am doing my own thing with the content initially inspired by the previous comic I did steal one of Plagg’s lines from their continuation comic cause it was too funny to be ignored.

So anyhoo! Here’s a part two!

---

“Geez, you would think Hawkmoth would give us one morning off,” Alya groaned. Marinette, Nino, and Alya had been heading towards the station to meet Adrien when that giant robot akuma came out of nowhere.

Now the girls returned to a worried looking Nino who embraced Alya happily. Marinette lingered a bit away from them looking pale and sweaty. Alya sighed and went back to comfort her. “Don’t worry, girl, I’m sure things with Adrien will work out.”

“Yeah...about that…”

The train slid into the station. The doors opened and people started flooding out. Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm and pulled her down to whisper in her ear. “I freaked out seeing Adrien while I was Ladybug and might have, sort of, asked him out to the movies.”

“As Ladybug?”

“Yeah.”

“What is wrong with you! That wasn’t the plan! You were going to do that only if he rejected you as Marinette!”

“I know but I didn’t want to get rejected so I jumped the gun. Do you think this will mess things up?”

“I don’t know! We don’t know what his reply is gonna be. What did he say after you asked him out?”

“Nothing. I left before he could answer.”

“I love you but I am going to kill you.” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Heads up,” Nino called for the girls’ attention, “I can see Adrien.”

“I’m gonna make a run for it.” Marinette took two steps before Alya pounced on her and forced her back.

“You dug this grave, now lie in it.” Alya grabbed her arm and pulled her down the platform towards Adrien.

Adrien was walking in a dazed state and his face was beet red. He almost walked completely past them before Nino hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Hey dude! It's great to have you back."

"Oh hi, Nino," Adrien snapped out of his daze, "You didn't have to come meet me."

"Sure we did," the three of them started walking back out of the station. Adrien clung close to Nino as he told them about his trip. His gaze kept flickering down to Marinette who walked in step with Alya. Nino would have found it funny if it wasn’t for the fact that Marinette looked like she wanted to melt into the ground.

After their initial phone call two weeks ago Adrien had been really quiet about the whole confession thing. He sent lots of pictures from his trip and talked to him but anything having to do with Marinette was nonexistent. He figured he was working through his feelings on his own. It may have been because Marinette was his friend or Alya’s aggressive shipping of the two but he hoped Adrien chose her. They really were made for each other.

The girls left early and Nino invited Adrien back to his place to hang out. "I'm glad you had fun on your trip. You must have had a lot on your mind regardless."

"A lot on my mind?"

"We were gonna have to talk about it at some point," Nino collapsed into a beanbag chair, "About Marinette?"

Adrien went rigid. "Ma-Marinette? What about Marinette?"

Nino looked at him deadpanned. "Dude, she confessed to you? Remember?"

"Yeah," Adrien sat down next to him, "I remember."

"So did you come to a decision while you were away?" Nino asked.

"Not really, I keep flip-flopping about it. I know being with Marinette would be the easier option and she's great. I would be lucky to call her my girlfriend."

"But?"

"I still really love Ladybug and after what happened today…"

"What happened today?"

Adrien recounted to Nino about the akuma and how Ladybug and Rena Rouge saved him. Then how Ladybug had asked him out to see a movie.

"HOLY CRAP!" Nino gaped, "Ladybug asked you out? Why didn’t you lead with that?"

"I guess because I was still processing it happened." Adrien leaned back so he was staring up at the ceiling, "It feels like I'm dreaming. I'm happy but it also confused me more."

"I wouldn't blame you for being confused. Having a friend confess to you and then your crush asking you out...it's a lot to think of."

"I feel like the answer should be obvious. But it doesn't feel that way anymore."

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Marinette said she wasn’t expecting an answer but I still owe her something. I don’t even know how serious Ladybug was with her invitation. She could have just been messing with me but I don’t really see casual flirting as something she would do.” Adrien pondered it some more. Nino could see the gears turning in his head.

“I’d like to see you and Marinette together but I can’t force you to be with her. If it turns out Ladybug is who you really want then that’s okay too. Marinette’s strong and for the most part it sounds like she just wanted to let you know she had feelings for you. You don’t have to feel guilty about either option. I hope you know that.”

“You’re so sagely. It’s throwing me off,” Adrien laughed, “Go back to saying dude and talking through a mouth full of hot cheetos please. But seriously though, thanks for talking with me about this. It helps.”

“I’m always here for you, brother,” Nino tossed him a controller, “Now let me whip your butt in Mario Kart.”

---

Adrien returned home after a few rounds of Mario Kart with Nino. He was already pushing things with his father by going off with his friends earlier instead of heading straight home. He received a cool welcome from his father when he walked inside the mansion before he was gone again. At least he had deigned to greet him when he got home. That’s more than what he expected out of him.

He climbed the stairs to his room. “Alright, you can come out now,” Adrien told Plagg.

“You couldn’t have snuck me some cheetos while you were hanging out with your friend?” Plagg whined, “I’m starving!”

“There were three full camembert tins as well as an emergency string cheese in my bag. How are you starving?”

“I ate those on the ride back to Paris. Now I’m hungry again!” Plagg crawled across Adrien’s bed, “I’m so weak, Adrien. I can hardly move. Everything around me is going dark. I can hear the angels singing.”

“You are a menace.” Adrien picked him up and tossed him into his cheese cabinet. “Happy?”

“I feel rejuvenated!” Plagg cackled as he dove head first into a new tin of camembert. Adrien rolled his eyes and closed the cabinet door.

He went to the window and looked out over the lights of the city. He couldn’t wait to be back running across that skyline. Two weeks without being Chat Noir had been torture. Ladybug assured him that she and Rena had things covered when he told her he was going away for a bit. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about it.

Maybe he could tear Plagg away from his cheese hoard for a quick jaunt around town. Maybe he’d even see Ladybug.

Oh Ladybug. All this time he had been trying and failing to woo her as Chat Noir and then without any prompting she asked Adrien out. He still wasn’t sure if she was serious. How badly he hoped that she was though. He wanted it to be real. He wanted Ladybug to love him. Now it looked like he had a chance at that but there was only one snag. Marinette.

Sweet and wonderful Marinette. He already broke her heart as Chat Noir. Could he stand to do it again as Adrien? He really didn’t want to but neither did he want to leave her in suspense of an answer. He wished things could be simpler.

He thought back to what Plagg said on the train and scoffed. “Monogamy is a concept invented by humans.” he repeated it back to himself, “As much as I would love to be in the middle of a Ladybug/Marinette sandwich I don’t think that’s an option. I think I would combust at the mere possibility.”

He pressed his head to the cool window and sighed. His eyes fluttered close. He should just go to bed at this point. He would stay up all night worrying himself into knots about what to do at this rate. He opened his eyes once more and fell back with a startled yelp.

“Oops, sorry,” Ladybug waved at him upside down through the glass, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh no, no you’re fine.” Adrien shot to his feet, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” she righted herself and perched on top of his open window, “I wanted to come by and talk to you. I realize I kind of gave you a shock today during the akuma attack. The whole asking you to go to a movie thing.”

“Right, yeah, I was certainly surprised.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. Ladybug was in his room! Okay, she was sitting on his window but that was still in his room. “I gotta know, were you being serious or were you just fooling with me? I won’t be mad if you were but I just wanna know.”

“Yeah, about that,” he could swear he saw Ladybug blushing. Ladybug was blushing around him! “I did mean what I said. I think you’re a nice guy and I know that we haven’t ever interacted that much but I like you. I have no idea what you think of me but now you know what I think of you. So...thoughts?”

“I think you’re amazing.” Adrien answered without hesitation. His feet brought him closer to the window so he could better gaze up at her. Her head was silhouetted in moonlight casting a bright white halo around her dark hair. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she gazed stared back at him. Her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pink.

Adrien cleared his throat and spoke again. “I’ve actually had a crush on you for ages. I had trouble believing anything would come of it though.”

“Oh really?” Ladybug smirked, “Ages you say?”

Adrien’s mouth went dry. He nodded his head.

“Well if that ain’t a kick in the head,” she chuckled softly, “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

Wait. Hold up! Ladybug had a crush on him? He knew that she liked him but a crush? For how long? Adrien’s mind flashed back to when Ladybug told him she was in love with someone else. Was the someone else Adrien? Had he been getting rejected all this time because Ladybug was already in love with him?

“Adrien?” Ladybug waved a hand in front of his face, “Did I lose you? Was that too forward? I’m sorry if it was.”

“No! I’m just really happy!” Adrien blurted out. “I...I uh…if you still want I would like to go to that movie with you.”

Ladybug smiled. “Great. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I will be,” he would move the heavens themselves in order to be free if so needed.

“Awesome. They’re doing a classic movie night at the theater tomorrow. We could see the original La Belle et la Bete or Citizen Kane or Roman Holiday.”

“Aren’t they playing Psycho as well?”

“A horror movie?” Ladybug’s eyes widened. “I mean if that’s what you want to see...well um…”

“Wait,” Adrien said, “Are you--are you scared of horror movies?”

“Yeah, I know, big bad hero Ladybug gets scared watching horror movies. Laugh it up.” she shook her head.

“I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t!” Adrien couldn’t help but smile though. He learned something new about her. “La Belle et la Bete sounds nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the original. I’ve only seen the Disney version and the live action remake they did back in 2014.”

“Well then,” Ladybug twisted her yo-yo around in her hands. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening for our date.”

“Can’t wait.” Adrien was smiling like a fool. Ladybug gave him another wave goodbye before leaping off into the night. Adrien watched from the open window with a dreamy smile on his face. He had a date with Ladybug!

Then his heart sunk. He was gonna have to reject Marinette now. He hoped she wouldn’t take it too hard.

---

“I have a date with Adrien! I have a date with Adrien!” Marinette danced around her room. The kwamis were all out and celebrating with her. Alya sat on the chaise with a knowing smile. This wasn’t what Alya had planned but it looked like it worked out in the end. She had never seen Marinette so happy.

“Oh no,” Marinette stopped abruptly. “I have a date with Adrien!”

She ran to her closet and started pulling out clothes. “What am I gonna wear? It’s a movie date so it shouldn’t be anything too fancy but I don’t want to look like a slob. Should I wear something warm if the theatre is cold? But with all that body heat it’s bound to be warm so should I dress lighter? Alya, what do you think?”

“I think that you’re going as Ladybug so what you have on under your costume won’t make much of a difference.” Alya was trying not to laugh.

“Oh right,” Marinette threw her clothes back down, “Forgot about that part.”

“And you’re okay with dating Adrien as Ladybug? You don’t think that’s gonna cause any problems down the road? If you want this relationship to go anywhere in the future you’ll need to tell him who you are.”

“I know, but that isn’t for a good long while. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

The words of a fool in love. Alya decided to let her have her moment and not say anything. Tomorrow night would be interesting indeed.

---

(Previous) (Next)

#miraculous ladybug #post gang of secrets #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #plagg #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #topsy turvy #ladrien #for sure this time #writing

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Text

hey angel (m)

♡ sub!felix + reader

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it.

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh.

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is.

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

��Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

like my writing? donate: ko-fi

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liptonsbabe · 4 years ago

Text

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Summary: The reader has left the burrow trying to hide from Molly’s harsh comments. Bill’s mom doesn’t want his son near you cause she thinks you’ll hurt him judging you for your family reputation. Arthur thinks differenly so he’ll try to make amends between you two

Word count: 3.4 k. Too long I’M SORRY

Warnings: none

English not my mother language so pleeeeese tell me if something’s wrong

A/N: Hey! Another chapter for you’all. Thanks for keep reading this. The next part will be updated soon and yeah, hope you like it! If you want to be tagged just tell me and i’ll do so :D

Chapter 3: Expectations

It was bitterly cold outside the burrow, and you wondered if winter had come early. Your icy hands clenched your sides, refusing to go back inside even if your knuckles burned and your bare feet began to crack from the hardness of the grass on your soles.

You walked on the grass feeling the dew wetting your fingertips. On the other side of the garden the gnomes were burying one of Molly's ornaments with what, you guessed, the woman would be very angry when she found out, but no more than she already was. Molly's words were harsh. Even if her intention was not to make you feel bad, she had managed to put a huge weight on your stomach after the fight.

You didn't blame her, it was almost certain that Molly would react that way, however, you hoped that within her there was a bit of empathy for the situation you were experiencing with your family. It wasn’t easy for anyone to go through a war that could have been avoided in one way or another, however, for the Grants it was an even more difficult challenge knowing that the trigger for such a war was grandpa Tim Grant's half brother.

You walked around the house, crossing the barnyard, watching the chickens peck at a rubber boot on a very rusty cauldron. The cornfield grasses moved with the wind at the same rate. From right to left, right to left, right to left and then they changed the rhythm from left to right, left to right, left to right ...

The barn was just behind the thick grass rising into an old stone sty, which had several crooked stories attached to it. Four or five chimneys dotted the roof of the cellar, and most likely the entire building was held up by magic due to its crazy bolt-on construction. You took a look back at the main entrance of the house where you could hear the voices of Bill's brothers next to Molly's, deciding to get away from the Weasleys before starting a new fight.

You crossed the cornfield finding a pond full of frogs that you dodged with a little scream and a ballerina jump. Then you came across an old broom shed that was half stowed and a pervasive smell. You headed there, thinking of helping out with the cleaning and wasting some time in the process until William came home from the ministry in the early afternoon.

The brooms were on top of each other in a corner of the shed where the garden gnomes used them to play with each other. One of the gnomes had gotten a match with which he had managed to light a couple of strands of the broom of one of the twins -You knew it because each of the brooms had the initials of Molly's children painted on the base. That one had a huge G in the center - which soon expanded into the rest of the broom's dark fibers. You immediately turned it off earning yourself a tiny kick from the gnome.

The smoke from the fire mixed with dust, and the foul smell of expired wax made your eyes water . You wondered vaguely when was the last time that place had been cleaned up, however, the density of the raised dust and the rottenness of the broom wax on the floor told you about the nonexistence maintenance of the shed. The orchard was contained within a paddock, so you assumed there would be no problem cleaning it up later.

You collected each thing by hand placing them where you thought they should go. You finished cleaning the shed earlier than expected, securing the door when exiting to prevent the gnomes from entering and destroying everything again.

You continued your way in a straight line until you reached the barn where a thick layer of dust hid the doorknob. You opened the warehouse with your wand finding the worst scenario ever imagined. The walls were hidden in ghastly cobwebs, the shelves were clothed in huge mountains of dust, and Muggle stuff were strewn everywhere. Mr. Weasley's old Ford Anglia was on the left side of the barn, storing certain flying objects that you couldn't recognize from the cloud of dust that rose and entered to your eyes.

Well, that seemed like an even bigger challenge than the shed on the other side of the garden. You started by washing the car using your wand to launch several aguamentis causing a waterfall of mud falling from the roof to the fender. Then the car doors flapped open like a pair of wings, letting out the flying objects. You raised your wand by closing the barn door blockig them the exit and initiating a chase that lasted a couple of hours to catch each object, throw it inside the Ford Anglia and finish polishing the hood before the flying, spoiled car got upset.

You forgot the last time you helped your household servants clean a simple fireplace ornament. Years before, when you were little and your brothers liked to spend time together, you helped the butler to clean some objects in the house because it was more fun when you formed competitions between you, Anthon and Margaret to know which of you cleaned the house ¿faster . You had fun and old Alfred got less tired. But that was a long time ago and in the present you didn’t remember what was the proper order of cleaning.

You were lugging box after box for several hours getting a terrible allergy in the process. The last box was made of recyclable paper where you put Mr. Weasley's old newspapers and Molly's worn recipes. You carried them to the fourth shelf from the right, previously cleaned, raising it with both hands. A speck of dust flew across the room, stopping on your nose causing you to sneeze so hard you fell backwards with the box on your face. The papers flew around the corners causing a disaster worse than the initial one.

“Shit”

You stayed lying on the floor taking the box off your face staring at the ceiling. Undoubtedly that would be a difficult life without anyone to help you doing the things more than yourself, however you were willing to try ‘cause you didn’t want to return home where things were simple but with a high cost. You weren't sure you wanted to trade your freedom for a few extra comforts. You let out a sigh ready to stand up when a singular sheet of a recent newspaper flew towards you, stopping on your chest. You caught a glimpse of a fairly familiar photograph in the ink, so you took the paper and read:

"Dark Mark sparks panic." Muggle family murdered. Death Eaters numbers grow” Your hands trembled over the paper, caressing each of the words, reading them over and over again. The weight on your stomach grew and grew, as if it were suddenly going to explode. A huge picture of uncle Tom stood in the middle, with that toothless grin and throbbing nostrils “Merlin’s beard”

Your fingers tingled, and you couldn't help but run your touch over your uncle's face trying to think how he got to that point. Grandpa Tim never talked so much about his half brother and you never had the courage to ask him even if the curiosity was eating your insides. There were few times where Tom Riddle's presence was in the family conversations and if that happened, then your father changed the topic from one second to another. It was annoying living in the shadows, but it was even more to be tied to a cause that no one sympathized with, not even his own brother. But Tim Grant was reserved, perhaps too reserved. Maybe that was the reason why he allowed the actions of his little brother to escalate to those levels and allowed too that his only son had choose the wrong side. However, you didn’t understand - or support - Voldemort's ambitions, neither did your grandpa and that cost you to be rejected by the rest of your family.

Your eyes watered and you didn't know if it was because of guilt or if the damn dirt had entered your eyelids. You looked at the ceiling in the haze. You searched your mind and realized that the situation affected you too much. You weren't welcome with the Weasleys, nor with the Grants. You felt desolate, as if the barn walls were closing in on you.

Molly's reaction was valid, you repeated yourself as many times as you could, because anyone who had lost a large part of it’s family to a member of another's would have done the same thing or something so much worse. You shook your head, once again feeling the rejection you were used to.

The barn door opened suddenly, letting in a gust of wind hitting your body directly on the ground. Your skin prickled from the cold causing the newcomer to laugh.

You looked up to find yourself face to face with the distorted figure of Arthur Weasley who was holding a couple of drinks along with a weird smile that made you laugh. The man sat on the floor next to you leaving the glass next to your face.

"I'm sorry I scared you. it’s freezing cold out there and in my defense, nobody comes to this place”

“It’s okay, I wasn't expecting visitors”

"Fine, then" Arthur took a sip of his drink licking his chapped lips, but still showing you that smile so much like Bill's. You folded the newspaper on your lap, nervous. "So ... what are you doing lying in my barn?"

"I ... I was trying to clean this place up”

"Is that so? ‘cuz It seemed like you were about to take a nap."

“Yeah, i had a little mishap here”

"I see, do you want to get up?"

"Yes, thank you." Arthur held out his hand, slowly pulling you up to leave you sitting in front of him. He offered you the drink and you clinked glasses before drinking. It was hot chocolate, you guessed, made by Molly. Your stomach churned.

Mr. Weasley glanced around the barn, surprised to see more than half perfectly arranged

“This place hasn't been so clean since Bill was born”

“Sorry?

"No, no, it's okay," he mentioned, waving to play it off, "Molly had been asking me for a long time to do it, so I think you just made my job easier."

"It's nothing, Mr. Weasley

"Did you see something you liked?"

"Uh, yeah," you answered wiping your lips. "Ignoring the fact that your car almost killed me, I noticed that you have a lot of muggle stuff."

“Ah, yes. They are fascinating, don't you think?”

"Certainly, but I also realized that most of them are useless, why do you still have them here?"

"I like to collect them," he replied, taking another sip of his drink. You mimicked his action “to be honest, I don't even have a clue how these things works, but I suppose I'll find out in time. Muggle devices are not as advanced as ours, much less functional, however, I find them entertaining and special somehow, did you know that they use a subway to transport themselves underground? And they must leave coins in a machine so that they give them a little ticket. A ticket! The first time I used one I was deadly excited!

You smiled, imagining how it would to see Mr. Weasley that happy

"I could help you understand how they work." You winced when Arthur looked at you with wide eyes. "My ... my grandfather lived with Muggles for a while and knows a lot about this artifacts. Several times he spoke of his usefulness to my brothers and me”

“Fantastic!” He replied cheerfully. You smiled “It's wonderful (Y/N), thank you”

“No problem”

Then a silence settled between you, being cut off only by the babble of the gnomes outside the barn kicking the timbers trying to get inside. Arthur cleared his throat as he ran his little blue eyes over each of the walls of his newly renovated barn. He smiled again placing one of his hands on your shoulder

"I found out what happened with Molly in the morning," he mentioned. You nodded “My children told me what you said to each other and ...”

"I'm sorry I spoke badly to your wife, Mr. Weasley" you interrupted, sipping your glass all at once, leaving it on the floor. "I know after this I'll have to talk to William and find another place to stay."

“She is not like that. She rarely has such behavior with the people and I can only think that my Molly has a lot of mixed feelings. The war has us all nervous and the fact that the memories of the past have arisen again ... they make her have reactions that are not very usual in Molly.”

"I'm not blaming her. I think she's right”

“Why?”

"What I did to my family ... running away, betray them..." You started playing with your fingers on your lap, embarrassed. "It's not something a trustworthy person would do."

“What are you talking about?”

“For the Grants, it’s very important to support the family in their endeavors without stopping to think if that could be harmful to the others. With uncle Tom becoming the most dangerous dark wizard of all times ... people would think that his relatives would follow his steps and they did “Mr. Weasley listened attentively, ignoring the screams of his wife announcing that the food was ready “At least most of them. Now all of us are tied to the He-who-must-not-be-named, whether we want it or not. It ruined our lives and I couldn't stay in that place forever

"Why aren't you on his side?"

"Because I can't see my brothers make a wrong decision" You crumpled the newspaper with your hands looking at how the pic of Lord Voldemort turned into a streaked stain "I have my own convictions, even if you don’t believe so”

"I don't believe anything of you, (Y/N)" Arthur's voice turned stoic as he stared at you harshly. "Neither the good nor the bad. I am a believer that you should judge someone by what demonstrates, not by what it’s said about them. Right now you aren’t showing me anything but that there is something in your family that you don’t like and that the dirt in my barn is intolerable to you”

You smiled

"We're all here waiting to see what are you capable of. Good or bad, you get to decide who (Y/N) Grant is from now on. Starting over. Forget that the Grants' actions make you worthy of the consequences”

Warmth attacked your chest. It was comforting to feel for the first time the acceptance of someone who wasn't doing it out of mere compassion or that it was Bill. That Arthur gave you the benefit of the doubt encouraged you to continue as before: trying, trying, trying.

"I think his wife doesn't think the same."

Arthur Weasley patted your shoulder.

"I'll talk to her, she'll understand. Meanwhile let's go home, it's time for lunch”

"Did Bill come back?"

"Yes, my son and I came back from the ministry a while ago.He wanted to find you, but I asked him to let me do it. You know, because sometimes it's good to have the daughters-in-law on your side”

Your cheeks heated up and then the rest of your face turned completely red. Arthur studied your reaction, smiling as he realized you were just a kid looking for approval. He patted your shoulder again, inviting you to leave the rest of the mess and accompany him to the burrow.

"These aren’t a good times to trust the Daily Prophet," Arthur mentioned, noticing the crumpled newspaper in your hands. You skipped the pond and skirted the cornfield until you reached the garden entrance where Bill's brothers and Bill himself had set up a long table near Molly's apple tree where they planned to spend the afternoon. One of the twins raised his wand putting the cuterly across the table, one set for each of the family members. You wondered if there would be a place for you at the table “Honestly, these are not good times to trust anything or anyone, so if you accept my advice, don't worry too much about reading the newspapers, they will leave you more questions than answers, Hey, you will break that!

Arthur scolded his twins when they fiddled with forks in a battle to find out which of them would wash the dishes after eating. Arthur ran towards them while Bill approached you greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He frowned, watching you closely and then removed his coat, draping it over your shoulders.

"What the hell were you doing outside without a sweater?" It's freezing!”

"You worry way too much," you told him, pressing the faux fur against your shivering body. The truth was that, after the exchange of words with Bill's mother, you didn’t have the time to get a sweater before leaving and of course your wounded pride wouldn’t let you get dressed again before going to hide in the barn. Bill clicked his tongue rubbing your arms. "I'm fine, I just lost track of the time cleaning your father's barn and I didn't feel the cold until now”

"You're bad at lying, did you know that?"

"You should stop asking so many questions." You smiled at the grimace on the older Weasley's face. "Nothing happened."

"That's not what the twins told me," he suddenly mentioned. You felt the tension in Bill's body when Molly passed by him giving you a dangerous look, however you decided to ignore it for the good of both of you “ What my mom said ...”

"It’s okay, it doesn't matter I discussed it with your father and we worked it out”

“Are you sure?” You nodded “I hope so. Not because she’s my mother I will let her offend you in any way”

Your smile widened. You couldn't possibly love that man more than you already did. You approached his body, throwing your arms around Bill's neck, having to stand on your tiptoes to reach only to kiss his chin. He lowered his head, managing to bring his lips together.

“Help your brothers set the table, I'll go take a bath”

"Don't you prefer i help you instead?" You laughed

"I can do it by myself, thanks”

"Hmm ... you sure?”

"William ...”

"Okay, okay, okay," he urged you leaving a couple of kisses on the corner of your lips. "Don't be gone too long. i’ll miss you, love."

“I will not. Wait for me just here, yeah?”

You went upstairs to the room you shared with Bill and jumped into the shower enjoying the warmth of the water above your head. You leaned against the tiles thinking that your first day in the burrow had turned out very bad, but better than you had thought. Even if Molly didn't believe your words, you would do your best to fullfil the expectations of the others members of the Order. You would be loyal to them, to the Aurors, and you would fight whoever you had to to prove that your actions were worth more than the rumors surrounding the Grants did.

You were going to prove how wrong they were with you and, incidentally, you would forge a reputation of your own, one of which you would proud of

Tag:

@purple-vodka-99

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #domhnall gleeson #domhnall gleeson imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #harry potter x reader #domhnall gleeson x reader

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angel-tries-to-write · 3 years ago

Text

It’s okay to be gay

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: General Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x Marco Bodt Word count: 3880 Genre: fluff, family fluff

Jean knew he couldn’t hide his relationship with Marco forever. He also couldn’t hide who he was. But he had no idea what his parents were thinking about it and it scared him. Tied to “The Name of Music”.

Jean looked at his reflection in the mirror for the last time and turned around. He was extremely nervous, which was surprising for him, he would've thought that after performing so many concerts in front of millions of people nothing could make him anxious, yet he kept compulsively fixing his already perfect appearance and pacing here and there. Finally he stormed back into the bedroom, where his boyfriend was still getting ready.

“What takes you so long?” he asked with irritation.

“Huh?” Marco turned his head and looked at Jean. “Damn it” he swore quietly when his tie got tangled up again.

“Ugh, give me that” Jean approached his boyfriend and tied his tie in a few skilled moves. “For an elegant politician who always wears ties, you suck at tying them too hard.”

“Usually Annie does it for me. Thanks” Marco smiled and took Jean's hands in his. “Hey, relax. We're supposed to celebrate tonight, not stress out” he smiled and kissed his partner's nose. After all these years he could easily tell when Jean was stressed.

“Maybe we should stay at home” Jean fixed the nonexistent wrinkles on Marco's shoulders. That dinner was really making him anxious.

“Hey. It's going to be fine. No pressure, just a casual family dinner.”

“Yeah” he slid his hands on his boyfriend's chest. “Have I ever told you that you look really hot in a suit?”

“No, Jean, we're going anyway” Marco crossed his arms on his chest, knowing fully well what his partner tried to do. “Come on.”

Jean sighed and followed him, but with little enthusiasm. He wasn't quite convinced if it was that good idea, but he knew it was important for his boyfriend, so he got in the car and drove them to the restaurant. But even then he was extremely nervous and Marco wasn't really helpful. On a contrary, he even added fuel to the fire.

“You know, I'm thinking that maybe we should finally make our relationship official” he spoke suddenly and Jean had to put a lot of effort to avoid hitting the other car.

“What? You want to tell everyone we're dating?” he asked with shock.

“Well, yes, why not? Reiss is out of the picture, I don't have to be afraid anymore. I want to be myself” Marco shrugged. He seemed convinced and optimistic about that.

“I know, but it might not be a good idea” Jean said, not looking at his partner.

“Why?”

“People won't be happy” he answered evasively.

“I thought you don't care what people think. Unless...” Marco looked at him suspiciously. “You still haven't told your parents about us, have you?”

“Um...”

“Jean!”

“Okay, I haven't, I'm sorry” Jean let out a frustrated sigh. “I just... I don't know how they would react. I'm scared, okay? I don't want them to reject me.”

“They won't.”

“Easy for you to say, your parents are very supportive” he growled, grabbing the steering wheel tighter.

“Hey” Marco put his hand on Jean's thigh and squeezed it gently. “Whatever happens, you'll still have my family. Besides, I don't think your mom would just abandon you. She loves you too much.”

“It's not mom I'm afraid of” Jean admitted, gritting his teeth.

“Don't worry. It's going to be alright.”

“Let's hope you're not wrong” Jean sighed and threw his head back when he stopped in the red light.

“Hey” Marco gently took his boyfriend's chin and turned his face towards him. “You will have to tell them eventually, you don't have to do that today, but you can't hide it forever. But no matter what happens, you have me, okay? Don't forget about that” he smiled, stroking his cheek.

Jean took a deep breath and nodded. Marco was so calm that he felt his anxiety soothe a little.

“If we tell them and they throw a tantrum... Will you stay with me anyway?” he asked hesitantly. Marco chuckled softly.

“Of course I will. No matter what happens. I promised” he gave Jean a quick kiss and pulled back on his seat, because the light turned green and they had to go.

When they entered the restaurant, Jean couldn't hear anything but the deafening beating of his heart. He shouldn’t feel that scared, it was nothing new, just two friendly families eating dinner together and celebrating. Nothing unusual. Nothing to be afraid of. So why did he feel so awkward, why was it so difficult? He desperately tried to stay calm, but he couldn’t even hold Marco’s hand for comfort. Terrible. But being the performer taught him that no matter what, the show must go on. If he managed to replace Eren as a lead singer when they needed it and not ruin that huge concert, he could eat a very uncomfortable dinner as well. He just had to convince himself it was all a stage play. He quickly put a trained smile on his face, the one that would make Historia happy and proceeded to exchange greetings with his and Marco’s families. Not like there were many people, just his parents, Marco’s parents and Ashley with her girlfriend. Yet it felt like a crowd. At least most of them knew their secret, one of them heavily contributed to the situation, so he shouldn’t feel alone. But he did. And he was doing the best he could to hide his feelings.

Marco was oblivious to his suffering. Jean didn’t blame him, it was his night. He had a reason to celebrate and Jean would never let his fears get in the way and ruin such a happy night. But he was painfully aware that it was going to end in drama, sooner or later, he had bad feelings about that night. Especially if the alcohol was going to be poured recklessly, though he hoped that such a fancy restaurant would never allow it. He tried to stay silent and avoid conversations, focused on eating and excusing his lack of enthusiasm with fatigue. It wasn’t a total lie, Attack on Titan had a productive time recently, working hard on a new album where Jean was going to have more solos. It was interesting how one sickness taught Eren a better lesson than anyone would ever manage to. He learned to step back, rest and take care, and he finally understood he wasn’t irreplaceable. Although unhappy at first, he quickly noticed that the constant spotlight could be tiring and it was nice to give it to someone else from time to time. Jean, on the other hand, found out that being a leader was a really hard work and while Eren was chilling as a support singer, Jean had to be absolutely perfect. It was truly exhausting. He was also driving that night, so he had an excuse to avoid drinking, which had its perks, it lowered the probability of saying something he would later regret saying. But even then he knew something was going to happen, the catastrophe was in the air.

“So, now that Rod Reiss is in jail, you can slow down and rest a little, don’t you think?” Marco’s mother asked her son, but he shook his head.

“No, the hard work starts now. I was the only candidate who could successfully replace Reiss. People believe in me and I can’t fail their expectations” he answered.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them, son” the woman protested.

“On the contrary. I absolutely have to prove they were right to believe in me. They trust in me, I can’t disappoint them.”

“Just don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I have someone to make sure I won’t overwork myself” Marco smiled at Jean.

“I'm sorry, but if you count on me, forget about it. It’s going to be a busy couple of months” Jean said straightforwardly. “To be honest, if I knew that being a successful musician costs so much work, I would’ve become a full time graphic designer.”

“Don’t even say that. The world should know your talent. You finally have the recognition you’ve dreamed about since you were a kid” Marco pointed out. He was proud of his boyfriend.

“Yeah, and I’d rather stay at home on the couch and watch some dumb movies.”

“That can be arranged.”

“With our schedules? Good luck.”

“Why are you suddenly so pessimistic?” Marco asked, watching him carefully.

“I’m sorry. I’m just stressed. You’re right, I have everything I could have asked for, but I’ve never expected this life to be this hard. If I think about how No Name did that while having full time jobs, it exhausts me already. They’re super humans.”

“Sometimes having what you wanted isn't exactly what you needed” Jean's mom said. “Just remember to take care of yourself.”

“I have to, Historia and Armin would murder me otherwise” Jean chuckled, knowing how serious his friends were about that.

“Well, sometimes what you get is exactly what you needed, you just aren't aware of that” Ash said with a smirk, she was still so proud of herself that she was the reason they got to be together.

“Well, yeah. The song writing process is amazing, and performing on the concerts what we made is very exciting and satisfying. I also enjoy meeting the fans, it's awesome to learn how our music impacts their lives, it makes us know that what we do actually makes sense” Jean said and his face lighted up with happiness. Despite many difficulties he had to face and that hard work he had to put into achieving what he had, he loved his career. And he was almost happy. Almost, because he still had to keep a secret of his relationship with a man he loved.

“Too bad you didn't get this girl you liked” his mother said suddenly and Jean tensed and paled. “Then you could say you had absolutely everything. What was her name? Mikasa?”

“It was a long time ago. We're just friends now and we're happy about that” he said dryly. Marco put his hand on Jean's thigh under the table to comfort him at least a little.

“Well, that's a very good point. When are you going to get a girlfriend? I'd like to meet her before I grow old” Jean's father commented. Jean took his boyfriend's hand and squeezed it tight, seeking for more comfort.

“I'd rather not discuss my relationship status” he answered, putting a lot of effort into staying calm and getting to the top of diplomacy.

“So you do have a relationship?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes of no” the man demanded and Jean sighed, not looking at him.

“Yes” he said quietly.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Because I wanted to avoid your nosy questions. I'll talk to you about it when I'm ready.”

“Oh, come on. You're our son, you can tell us anything” the man said and Jean knew he going to regret it before he even thought about it.

“I highly doubt that. You would never understand.”

“Try me.”

A challenge. The worst thing that could be done to a hot headed person like Jean was. A recipe for disaster, he couldn't stop, because the words left his mouth before he could even think about not doing that.

“I have a boyfriend.”

The silence that fell after he said these words was deafening. Jean felt sick because of the nerves and stress. He did it again, he acted without thinking and he was in trouble again.

“You... what?”

“I knew it was a bad idea” Jean stood rapidly and ran away before anyone could stop him. He needed air, he needed to be alone. And he couldn't face the consequences of his words, not yet.

The silence at the table lasted for a long moment before it was broken by Ash.

“You're not going after him?” she asked, looking at her brother.

“He needs a moment for himself. I had plenty opportunities to learn when it's better to leave him alone” Marco said calmly.

“That was... unexpected. But why did he think so low of us?” Jean's mother asked quietly, still shocked by her son's outburst. “Why he was so afraid of telling the truth?

“He was afraid you wouldn't understand” Marco sighed. “I've told him multiple times that he had nothing to worry about, but you know Jean. He can be really stubborn sometimes. And if he's sure about something, it's hard to convince him otherwise.”

“Well, technically he's not wrong. I don't understand that” Jean's father spoke, he wasn't really sure what to think about it. “But it doesn't mean I'm not going to accept him, I'm not a monster. I just need some time to process that, it's something I've never expected” he sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. Suddenly his wife stood up. “Where are you going?”

“I need to find Jean” she answered and followed the same way her son did.

“Well, it's never an easy thing to accept at first” Marco's father spoke. “But our children's happiness is the most important thing in the world and such small details don't matter anymore, when you think about the big picture. They're happy with their partners, they know what's important in lives and they're dating really amazing people. Who cares they're the same gender?”

“Besides it's often hard for themselves to accept who they are. We can't burden them with our insecurities. We need to support them” Marco's mother added.

“Jean struggled for years before he finally understood he didn't have to be ashamed of himself. Being bisexual is cool, I'm not complaining at all. It's having more options, and the more the better” Ash half joked, smiling wide.

“Easy for you to say, you've been bold and open about it all your life” Marco pointed out. His younger sister only shrugged.

“It's not my fault you were a coward who couldn't confess to his crush. I did it quickly and I have a wonderful girlfriend. And you literally needed a punch in the face to stop being afraid.”

“Can you not bring that back?”

“That's too funny.”

“It's not.”

“It wasn't back then, but now it is. Let me have my little sister moment and laugh at my oh-so-perfect big brother who failed a simple task.”

“I hate you.”

“I was helping you for years, time for payback.”

“Do you really have to act like children?” the siblings' father asked with annoyance.

“Speaking of children, I should probably look for mine” Jean's father said.

“He'll be back soon. He always comes back, don't worry” Marco assured him.

“You think so?”

“Sir, you should probably know that I am the one your son is dating. So if I say I know something, please, trust me, that I know” he explained. Suddenly he felt really stressed and nervous. What if he made a mistake? What if Jean would like to say it himself? What if that was too much for Mr. Kirschtein? But the man just hummed, thinking deeply.

“Makes sense. Though I would expect him to date some jerk who would break his heart. It's good that at least he has a sensible and kind partner.”

“Umm... Thank you?”

“I think I can get used to it. You were almost like family anyway.”

“Okay, but don't say that to me. Say it to Jean. With all respect, I couldn't care less if you like me or not. I'm used to people hating me, either for a reason or not. But your acceptance is very important for Jean and I want him to be happy. So I appreciate your approval, sir, but it means nothing if you won't say it again in front of Jean” Marco said and for a moment he thought maybe he crossed the line. But Jean's father only nodded.

“You're right. I have to do it as soon as he's back.”

Meanwhile outside the restaurant, Jean was going through a panic attack, nervous breakdown and all stages of grief at once. He knew it was bad, he should have been quiet, or he should have never even moved from home. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, but he couldn't, despite many attempts. Nothing worked. Suddenly he had heard someone's footsteps and he turned around to avoid looking them in the face.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” his mother asked, coming closer.

“Leave me alone” he growled. The woman didn't listen, instead she came closer and put her hand on his back.

“Remember how you were a child and you saw a thunderstorm for the first time? You didn't want to let go of me for hours. You were so paranoid that the storm would come inside and ruin our home” she chuckled softly, caressing his back.

“What does it have to do with anything?” Jean asked annoyed, but he didn't push his mother away.

“Just like then, all your fears are imagined. Jean, you know you sometimes are too focused on something and you have difficulties with seeing things which disagree with a certain mindset that you have. Although you have changed and matured enough, sometimes you still adapt that approach. Usually when you doubt something good may happen to you” she said with a soft, soothing voice that she would always use to calm him down when he was a child. He said nothing, just stood there with his hands in pockets, staring in the space. “I know it's hard for you, but don't waste your time on fears. You could risk so much to pursue your career, but not to admit who you are?”

“It's not that simple. No one hates me just for being an artist” he sighed. “Especially not people I care about.”

“No one hates you. To be honest, I even expected that.”

“You did?” Jean looked at his mother, surprised by her words.

“I had my suspicions. When you came home after that fight with Marco, I thought you were too heartbroken for a casual fight with a friend” she said with a smile.

“Wow... You knew I'm in love with him long before I was willing to admit it myself” he smiled softly.

“Mother knows best” the woman chuckled and took her hand away.

“Are you disappointed? Are you...” he hesitated for a moment “...are you going to stop loving me?”

“I could never stop loving you. You're my son. No matter what happens, you will always be my Jean-bo” she said, pulling her son in a hug. It was quite difficult, he was much taller than her after all, but Jean didn't protest, on a contrary, he happily accepted the embrace.

“Thank you, mom. It means a lot to me” he smiled and closed his eyes, breathing with relief.

“I'm sure your father would tell you the same thing” his mother assured him. Jean sighed with anxiety.

“I hope it's true.”

“Let's go back and find out, shall we?”

Jean hesitantly let go of his mom and nodded. He really hoped she was right, he didn't ask for much, just acceptance. Just a bit of understanding, that would be enough. His father didn't have to like or approve of his life, just if he wouldn't hate, that would be fine. He hesitantly followed his mother back to the restaurant.

“I told you he'll be back” Marco smiled at Jean's father. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern, looking at his boyfriend.

“I'll be fine, don't worry.”

“You know I worry exactly when you say that.”

“I mean it, Marco. There's nothing to worry about, I promise. It just... it was a very intense evening and I thought it was going to look differently. I'm sorry I've ruined your celebration.”

“Jean, you didn't ruin anything. I just wanted you to have a good time and I'm sad that you didn't. I love you so much and it breaks my heart to see you suffer” Marco confessed and Jean opened his mouth to say something, but he suddenly realized something.

“Are you tipsy?” he asked, watching suspiciously at his partner.

“Maybe.”

“Then stop talking, please. I don't want you to accidentally overshare something you wouldn't want to leak.”

“Well, there is something we would like to hear, right, Mr. Kirschtein?” Marco asked, looking at Jean's father and Jean felt his mouth go dry. He was anxious and scared what possibly his father could say.

“Yeah. I have to tell you something important. I might not understand or approve of your decisions, Jean. To be honest, I've never wanted you to be who you are now. I wanted you to have a stable, well-paid job, maybe as an engineer or a lawyer, meet a nice girl, marry her and have a family. But you're nothing like that. You didn't fulfill any of my expectations” he started, and Jean felt more sick with every word. “You've found your own path” the man said, changing his narrative. “You worked hard to be a successful artist, despite my discouragement. You're dating one of the kindest and best men I've ever met, and I'm so proud of you, my son. Your life isn't what I wanted it to be, but it's what you wanted it to be and I can see that you're so happy. And I just wanted to say that I might not understand you, but I love you and I'll do my best to be supportive” the man confessed and Jean just stared at him with tears in his eyes, deeply moved by his words.

“Wow, dad, I... I don't know what to say. I was so scared you might hate me for who I am... Thanks. I needed to hear this” he said, still a little shocked.

“See? I told you there's nothing to worry about” Marco nudged his boyfriend's shoulder with his, lips curved in a smug smirk.

“Oh shut up” Jean said and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He didn't like Marco's smug face, he looked so hot with it, and Jean didn't want to think what they would do if they were alone. Especially when his parents were around. That was definitely something that could wait.

“Aww, you're so cute” Ash smiled with satisfaction, she looked a lot like her brother.

“Not you too. Stop being so smug” Jean rolled his eyes.

“Oh, excuse me, I only made you two morons finally confess your feelings. You owe me.”

“We don't owe you anything.”

“You do and I have the full right to be smug. If it wasn't for me, you would've still lived in denial and my brother would've still be a coward and you both would rather lose each other than admit you were in love. So show me some respect, because I was the one who pushed you to make the right decision” she said angrily. Jean looked at his boyfriend, seeking for help.

“What, she's not wrong, you know that” Marco shrugged with an innocent expression. “Without her we wouldn't make any move, that's a fact.”

“Thank you, dear brother. At least one of you is smart enough to finally recognize my merit.”

“You love to be annoying, don't you?” Jean sighed, done with her.

“Well, that's what younger sisters are for” Ashley shrugged. “Better start getting used to it.”

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #my fic #jeanmarco #jean kirschtein #marco bodt

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adhd-disaster-willie · 4 years ago

Text

you’re the one that brings the sun; chapter 5/6

chapter 1, 2, 3, 4

warnings: swearing

word count: 2,757

notes: okay so this update took a while because I’ve been busy with school and writers block has been kicking my ass, but I think it’s worth it :)))

---

It was established in August that at least once a month, Alex will receive a phone call informing him to be at Julie’s house in ten minutes for a mandatory slumber party. It’s endearing sure, but he would like some sort of warning other than Luke calling him and saying that if he doesn’t show up as soon as possible, he’ll paint his drumsticks neon green. So that’s how Alex ends up sitting cross legged on Julie’s bed, putting Reggie’s hair into a bunch of tiny braids and watching The Princess Diaries for what’s probably the hundredth time.

“Lilly is definitely a lesbian,” Flynn says through a mouthful of popcorn.

Alex hums in agreement and Julie nods. “If only this movie weren’t made in 2001,” Julie says mournfully.

“Y’know I always thought that Joe was gay,” Alex admits. “Up until he dances with the queen.”

Reggie attempts to look up at Alex, earning an offended squeak from the latter. “Really?”

“Yes, now will you please stay still, I only have one more left.”

“Ok but there is no way Mia’s mom is straight!” Flynn says.

Julie seems to mull it over for a bit. “She does live in an old fire station. And artists are never straight.”

“Yea, like Willie!” Luke pipes up, sitting up from his position hanging halfway off the bed. “Willie’s not straight.”

“We should start a betting pool on how long it takes for Luke to bring up Willie,” Alex mumbles, his cheeks flushing pink. He ties off Reggie’s final braid and pats his head approvingly. “You look like a real princess.”

“Do I?” Reggie grins up at him with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and Alex chuckles.

“No subject changing,” Luke protests. “How’s Willie doing?”

“Still a pining idiot,” Flynn answers with a cheeky smile.

“I’m trying to watch the movie.” Alex shoves at Luke’s face and slides down off the bed to sit on the floor beside Reggie.

“You’ve seen this movie a million times,” Luke points out. He leans down so his head is hanging off the edge of the bed and smirks mischievously at Alex, who is pointedly refusing to look at him. “Aleeeex,” Luke whines. “Don’t be a buzzkill.”

“Alice, please,” Flynn says. Alex shoots her a look seeping with betrayal and Flynn raises their hands defensively. “I haven’t seen Carrie in a few days!” They protest. “I need drama.”

“Drama?” Alex asks. “Or blackmail material?”

Flynn shrugs, which only serves to cement what Alex was thinking. “Yea, nope. It’s not like anything has even happened since-” He cuts himself off, realizing his mistake and preparing for the onslaught of questions.

“Since!?” Luke cries. “Since what?!” He grabs Alex’s face roughly and looks at him with wide eyes. “Since what, Alex?”

“Nothing!” Alex squeaks, wrenching himself from Luke’s grasp. “Nothing! It was- let go of my fanny pack! Julie stop filming!!!” Alex swats at Luke’s hands and attempts to leap forward to grab Julie’s phone, but ultimately fails.

“I’ll let go if you tell me,” Luke teases in a sing song voice, his grin only growing the more Alex fights.

“Fine! If you just- sorry Reg the puppy-dog eyes only work on Luke and Bobby.” Reggie sighs in disappointment and Alex finally manages to get Luke off of him, huffing angrily and brushing nonexistent dust from his hoodie. “You’re a barbarian,” he mutters.

“Well?”

Alex responds to Julie’s prompting with a long-suffering sigh. “You have to promise not to make fun of me,” he says. They don’t promise. The movie is long forgotten as Alex’s friends gather around him, looking all too fascinated by his latest embarrassment. “He well… don’t laugh, ok. He wore a crop top last week and I tripped on my own feet and scraped up my knees.”

Flynn raises an eyebrow. “Nuh uh, there’s more, spill.”

Alex groans, burying his face in his hands. “They got all worried and started putting bandaids on my knees and I almost fainted. Then- please don’t make me say this,” Alex pleads, looking to Julie as if she’s his last hope. She shakes her head. “When they finished lecturing me I just looked at him and said ‘nice shirt’ and ran off. Nice shirt??? What is wrong with me?”

“Wait a minute,” Julie says, gesturing for Alex to pause. “You just… ran off? Where?”

Alex doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll paint your drumsticks if you don’t tell us,” Luke threatens. The difficulty is that Alex doesn’t doubt him one bit, and knows that Julie has a healthy supply of paint in a drawer just a few feet away from Luke.

Alex mumbles something under his breath and Reggie pokes him.

“Sorry what was that? Speak up.”

“Orange, I’ll paint them the ugliest shade of orange ever.”

“I went and hid in my closet!” Alex blurts. “For like an hour. I am never going to live that down.”

“That’s… incredibly ironic,” Julie laughs.

“I’m telling that story at your wedding.”

“Reginald, don’t even think about it!” Alex kicks Reggie lightly and raises his hand to flip off the other three, who are all dying of laughter. “I hate all of you. I need new friends.”

“Good luck with that.” Flynn pats Alex’s head; he can practically hear their stupid smirk.

“Fuck off.”

“No.”

---

Alex wakes up with his foot in Luke’s face, one arm thrown over Julie, his face in Reggie’s neck, and a very giggly Flynn perched on the end of the bed taking pictures. He sits up and murmurs sleepily, squinting in the oddly hazy room.

It’s gray and gloomy outside, quite fitting for mid-November, but far from Alex’s ideal weather. He’s always been partial to spring, when it’s not too hot and not too cold and not always cloudy and sad.

Flynn hops off the bed and onto Julie’s chair, where she spins a couple times before turning her phone to show Alex. “This is gonna be my new lockscreen,” they giggle. Alex stares at the photo, baffled as to how his arm was bent like that.

Breakfast is heaps of pancakes and fresh coffee (bless you, Ray) that for a moment, Alex considers just dumping over his head. Julie is curled around Luke for warmth throughout the whole morning and Flynn makes a point to gag at least once every 5 minutes. Alex knows she’s happy for them though, they finally got their act together a little over a week ago and at least this is better than the pining. Alex doesn’t say that though, because it will only get him a lecture on how he is not one to talk about pining.

Alex almost thanks a god he doesn’t believe in anymore when the rain outside doesn’t seem to make any moves into thunderstorm territory. Willie hates thunderstorms. He stays cocooned in a blanket until noon, but eventually Tía Victoria shoos them all out, claiming that Julie will never finish her homework with them all glued to her.

Alex is sopping wet when he finally arrives at his dorm, sadly no car can go right up to the entrance of the dorms. The first thing Alex notices when he walks in is the candles, and the second thing is the haphazardly thrown together fort in the middle of the room, which he narrowly avoids tripping over. “Willie?” He asks, lifting what he assumes to be the entrance and raising an eyebrow at Willie, who is grinning at him and shining a flashlight in his face.

“Ok, get that out of my eyes.” Alex clamps a hand over the light and Willie sticks his tongue out. “Did the power go out?” Alex asks, worry etching over his face. He can’t have all their food being ruined, with Alex living off his coffee shop job and Willie off of the occasional commission and odd check from his eccentric uncle.

Willie shakes their head. “Nope.”

“So why the… candles?”

“It’s fun!” Willie pulls Alex into the fort, stumbling back and just barely evading them toppling over each other into a quite compromising position. Willie presses his back against the couch and pats the space next to him. “It’s like you’re a little kid again.”

“Luke used to love making forts,” Alex admits. “We would move all the furniture in his living room and make the absolute worst blanket forts you can imagine. Like seriously, it’s no wonder none of us went into architecture.”

“Really? I can totally see you as an architect”

“That’s…”

“I’m joking, hotdog,” Willie giggles, bumping their shoulder together. He has a tendency to raise his eyebrows when he’s amused; Alex finds it all too endearing. Accompanied with the way their eyes crinkle when the laugh and the soft candlelight leaking through the thin blankets and draping over his features, Alex thinks he’s having trouble breathing.

“I was drawing you, y’know,” Willie says softly after a few minutes of silence.

“Hmm?”

“The day we went stargazing, I was drawing you. You’re- you’re a good muse.”

“Oh.” Alex’s stomach flutters. “I uh… thank you.” He gives Willie a hesitant smile before turning to focus on the flickering light. His breath feels weighted, like every exhale means something, but he can’t quite pinpoint what. There’s a light breeze whistling through the crack in the door and Alex closes his eyes for a moment, pretending that it’s wrapping around him and holding him close. Alex didn’t get much affection as a child; his parents had always been very stiff. Sure, they loved him, but they weren’t that good at showing it aside from a rough shoulder squeeze and tight smiles so full of expectations. When he came out, even the snippets of affection faded; no more of his mother fixing his hair or giving him a quick kiss on the forehead when he was sick. Two months after his coming out, they just… kicked him out. He came home to find his belongings shoved carelessly into a trash bag or two and that was that. Luke more than made up for the lack of physical affection, but Alex knows that there will always be something missing.

Wide awake, Alex lets his head fall onto Willie’s shoulder. This time with care and attention, hesitancy. He hears Willie suck in a sharp breath but then the tension melts from their shoulders and fizzles into nothingness. For a moment, there is nothing but them and the pattering of rain against the windows.

“Lets go for a drive.”

Alex looks up expecting Willie’s usual carefree and impish grin, but he’s taken aback by his wistful expression and something bursts in Alex’s chest. Something that may be instinct and may be just an overwhelming surge of emotion.

“Okay.” His voice is barely a whisper, a single wisp of smoke snaking from a blown out candle.

The air is damp and the rain is coming down hard; Alex reaches a cautious hand out beyond the awning and winces at the downpour. But Willie is wiggling his stupid eyebrows in the way that makes Alex’s face heat and he can’t say no as Willie drags him through the wet grass, shrieking with laughter and going slower than necessary to relish in the water pouring down from the sky in torrents. They’re soaked to the bone and breathless, overflowing with mirth, by the time they reach Alex’s car and clamber into the seats. Right after a brief argument about who’s driving of course. (“You will not be touching my steering wheel with your grimy paint hands, William.” “Says you.”) So Alex is driving.

Willie has their hands pressed to the window, breath fogging up the glass and sending them into a fit of giggles every time. Alex switches on the radio and there’s a song playing that he recognizes but couldn’t sing along to; something soft and low, like lilting waves. Willie knows it though. And they’re singing. Oh. They’re singing. Alex almost has to pull the car to a stop and put his head in his hands because Willie never told him he could sing.

Willie’s voice is low and slightly raspy, but not in a bad way. Alex knows he’s heard this song before, but he’s 100% certain that this is his first time really hearing it. And it’s beautiful. Or maybe it’s just Willie. It’s probably just Willie.

Alex brings the car to a slow stop in the parking lot of an odd gas station that always seems to be closed. He doesn’t turn it off though, because he would rather die than have Willie stop singing. He leans his head back and breathes, certain he’s inhaling Willie’s voice. Willie’s voice which is like sparks on his skin, like smoke that crowds his lungs and opens his soul for the very first time. He feels a sense of mourning when the song stops and something else comes on, something peppier and sickeningly sweet. He switches the radio off.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Alex isn’t even looking at them; he’s fiddling nervously with the strap of his fanny pack.

Willie smirks proudly. “You learn something new every day.”

“Yea.”

Willie traces a heart in the fog on the window and lets it sit there. Then he unbuckles his seat belt and pokes Alex’s shoulder. “Hey ‘Lex, come on.”

“No.” Alex shakes his head vigorously. “No. We’re already soaking wet and-”

“Hot dog.”

And damn it, the nickname may be so incredibly stupid but Alex has such a weird soft spot for it. He groans dramatically, making a point to wring out his hair, which is already mostly dry at this point. “You’re the worst. What if it starts thundering?”

Willie shrugs. “I have my noise cancelling headphones. And you can-” they cut themself off.

“I can what?”

“Nothing,” Willie squeaks. “Please. Please.”

So Alex climbs reluctantly from the car and stands in the parking lot looking far from amused. “You owe me.”

Willie laughs loudly, grabbing both of Alex’s hands and spinning him in an aimless circle, pulling them both into a dance to music that’s only in his head. They twirl Alex around several times, and Alex is certain that he’s going to actually fall over and faint. Willie raises his face to the sky and squints, letting the rain soak him without care. Alex is in awe and how open and free Willie is, like nothing can ever go wrong and if it does they’ll always be flying. He doesn’t realized they’ve stopped dancing until Willie turns to him with a curious expression. Their eyes rake over his face and Alex realizes he’s staring. But for once, he doesn’t look away. And for the first time, he sees the corner of Willie’s mouth quirk up and their eyes flick to his lips and even linger there for a brief second.

The rain doesn’t seem to have plans to stop anytime soon, and they’re both shivering and wet and Willie’s hair is dangling in front of his face. Alex reaches out and tucks it behind his ear, both of them holding a breath, waiting. It’s right there, right in front of him, and Alex is inches from just grasping it and clutching it to his chest. Willie takes a step forward so their faces are just inches from each other and Alex can feel their breath against his cheeks. He exhales shakily and raises one hand to cup Willie’s cheek, his touch feather light and afraid. Willie leans into the contact and grins upwards, their nose wrinkling fondly. He gives a silent nod and for the first time in years, Alex takes the plunge.

Their first kiss is soft and slow and Willie tastes like rain and green tea. Alex smiles against their lips, a breathy laugh escaping his own. He’d think this is a dream, but no section of his imagination could conjure something even a fragment as magical as this. They’re in the middle of a parking lot, cold and wet, and yet Alex feels the warmest he ever has. Alex is hesitant to pull away, but he does, just barely. Their foreheads stay resting against each other, like breaking apart would break them. Then it comes crashing into him. Alex just kissed Willie. He just kissed Willie. And Willie kissed him back! Holy shit!

“Wowza.” Wowza? What the fuck Alex?

Willie breaks into joyous laughter, throwing his head back and clutching Alex’s shoulders. And Alex laughs with him; he buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, his heart full to bursting. Wowza indeed.

---

notes: ...I did say I was thinking about a Willex rain kiss. I actually wrote like half of chapter 6 a while ago so I might be able to post it tomorrow.

chapter 6

taglist: @thatsanewflavor @spookiest-sapphic @dovesgrangers @julie-n-phantoms @frostknyte @thegaylink @nervousmiracletrash @crummycassidy @fairygclds @reallyintrospectivepeople @madsmax-37 @swamp-acad @kat-maybe-not @sunsetcurve123 @lookingthroughmirrors @queer-fandom-enby @over-under-through1 @willex-n-waffles @caliibee @stars-soph @herequeerandcantdrinkbeer @nickalicious @andwhenwepart @maizsnex @fanofthepod @heademptynothoughts @thunderstorm-symphony @julieandthephantomsandme @i-spit-on-fire

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fic #willex #willex fic #ytotbts #you're the one that brings the sun #willow writes #willie jatp #willie nolastname #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie molina #reggie peters #luke patterson #flynn jatp #flynn nolastname

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kaitwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Part 23: Explanations

Hello bbys! I very much forgot about posting this yesterday oops (It was Christmas I have an excuse lol) but anyway here it is! Once again a very big thank you to @garbagepale-kid for being the best and helping me edit and proof read and everything. I hope everyone is having a good holiday season!!

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,742

Warnings: Uh... none really. It did low key make me sad tho so I mean

You slowly made your way up to Sero’s room in a daze. Your fingers occasionally danced over your lips that were still tingling from your kiss with Katsuki, and your face was hot and red from what felt like a permanent blush. You had promised to meet him back in his room within thirty minutes before he came busting down Sero’s door to come and look for you, and you were pushing it with your slow pace.

After what seemed like an eternity, you stopped in front of Sero’s room. You heard soft music playing and hoped that his neighbors were either heavy sleepers or nonexistent. You brought your hand up and knocked three times. After a few minutes you turned on your heel, ready to head to Bakugo’s room when he didn’t answer, but just as you had begun to retreat his door creaked open.

His eyes were red and the smell of weed invaded your nostrils as smoke drifted from the room, he had a lazy smile plastered on his face once he realized who had been knocking. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you. How was your talk with Bakugo?” He leaned against his doorframe, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

You shifted anxiously as your gaze fell to the floor, “can I come in?”

His smile dissipated and he made room in the doorway, shutting the door behind you as you made your way into the room, sitting on his bed. Though the two of you had been sharing the room, there was no sign of this, save for the pajamas that were still piled on the floor from the night before. You had been keeping most of your things in your suitcase, and for the most part he had done the same, but in his assumption that you weren’t coming back he hadn’t bothered to pick up after himself.

Sero turned the music down and tried to kick some clothes out of the way before he picked up a sweatshirt from the ground, pulling it over his head before taking a seat on the floor in front of you and crossing his legs.

“Everything okay? How did it go?” He placed a hand on your knee and looked up to you.

You smiled and looked down at him, placing one of your hands on top of his. “It went well.” You watched as his smile came back to his face, though this time there was something different about it. “It went… really well.”

“Well that’s good, right? You’re happy?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

Sero leaned back, taking in your expression. You had a smile on your lips that he hadn’t seen in a while, a sparkle in your eye that hadn’t been there since Bakugo had kicked you out of his room. Though you had only said a few words since he had opened his door for you, he could hear something different in your voice. He knew this was coming, he had just hoped for a little more time.

“Yeah,” your free hand made its way up to your lips and you felt the blush come back to your face once more. Your attention turned to his face and you saw nothing but sadness come over his features. Your smile fell and you sighed, not sure if you were ready for this conversation. “I wanted to come and talk to you, though, about what happened earlier.”

“Right.” He sat up straight, rolling his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just… I really have no explanation for that.” You could tell he was trying to find the right words to say, he had always been a pretty easy person to read. He bit his lower lip and took a deep breath, looking to where your hands were connected, then back up to your eyes. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Han.” You reassured him. He was nervous, it was written all over his face. His sad eyes betrayed his bright smile.

“No, like… I love you.” He watched you cautiously, waiting for the realization to come over your face. Once he saw the spark of recognition he continued before you could get a word in. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I just never knew how to tell you, it never seemed like the right time.” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry. “First there was Monoma, and I knew you were very hesitant to give any affection to anyone after him… But then Bakugo came along. I hadn’t seen your face light up like that since Monoma.”

“Han…” It was the only thing you were able to get out. You had had your suspicions that he harbored those kinds of feelings for you, but you'd buried them deep down. It wasn’t that you ignored them, it was more so that you just thought he was just being the same old Sero, one of your best friends, because he never acted on them.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but into your eyes. “You had never looked at me like that, and that’s when I knew that there was never a chance for me. Not in this lifetime at least.” .

You sat there, dumbfounded. Memories from high school sprang to the front of your mind, the pining for the sweet, black haired, toothy-grinned boy came back. You had savored every smile in your direction, every slight brush of your hands, each second of eye contact you had shared. You’d admired him, stealing glances and falling more and more in love with his smile every day, but he had been in a relationship. Then Monoma came along and sucked you dry, made you feel worthless, and by the time that disaster was over you were too scared to let yourself feel that vulnerable to anyone else, Sero included.

“If you felt that way for so long, why didn’t you say anything?” Your voice was strained. “Sure, I wasn’t ready for a relationship after Neito, but maybe if you’d told me I wouldn’t have pushed my feelings for you so far down that they disappeared.”

His eyes shot to your face, An intense feeling of self-loathing washing over him at the words coming out of your mouth. You actually had feelings for him? There was a point in time where there was mutual pining? He’d noticed some lingering glances after he’d ended things with a girlfriend in high school, and the ways you always found a way to spend extra time with him,but in his mind that was just because you were worried about him. That relationship hadn’t ended the best, and he thought you were trying to be a good friend to him. Boy was he kicking himself in the ass for never acting on those bubbling feelings way back when.

“I feel like an idiot.” He admitted, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “You’re telling me there was a time where I could have swept you off your feet...” he trailed off, then let out a remorseful chuckle. “To think, if I had acted on that before Monoma came into the picture… you wouldn’t have been put through all of that pain.” He looked up to your glossy eyes.

Bringing back the things Monoma had said and done to you were still a very rough subject for you. Even after all of this time, even after finding solace in Katsuki, it was just irreparable damage. He moved himself from the floor to sit beside you, pulling your head onto his shoulder, rubbing your shoulder. “But now you have Bakugo, and I wouldn’t have done all of this for you if I hadn’t known he was a good guy, he just needed a little push in the right direction.”

“Han, why would you agree to do this if you felt so strongly about me?” You whispered, wiping at the tear that had escaped your eye. “If I had known I wouldn’t have agreed to this, to lead you on like this.”

“There was never a moment throughout all of this that I thought you were leading me on. Y/N I chose to do this. I did it for you. Seeing your beautiful smile and knowing that you’re happy is worth more to me than any reciprocated feelings. I went into this knowing that the end game was always going to be Bakugo, and if that’s what makes you happy then that’s what makes me happy.”

More tears trailed down your face as he spoke. Never had there been anyone in your life to put your feelings before their own. Never had there been anyone to risk their happiness for the sake of you. There was a part of you that still loved Hanta, and you thought that there might always be because though feelings were never reciprocated at the time, he was your first love. “Thank you, Hanta.” You sniffled and pulled his face to your level, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

You didn’t miss the faint blush that adorned his cheeks, or the sad smile plastered on his face. He squeezed your shoulder and stood up, pulling you with him. “Dance with me, one last time.” He turned the volume up on the Bluetooth speaker in the room and held his arms out to you. You smiled as you remembered all the times he had done this, it never failed to cheer you up.

He took your hand and pulled you close, holding you tightly to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head and the music played softly throughout the room. He wanted to cherish every last moment of this, because who knew when the next time he’d ever be able to hold you this close, if there would ever even be a next time. The two of you swayed together in the small space that the room allowed, and much to Seros dismay, the song ended all too soon. You pulled back and let him wipe at the tears that had fallen down your face once more.

“Just remember, I’m always here if you ever need me.” He pulled you closer one last time, placing a kiss on your forehead and holding back the tears that threatened to fall before watching you walk out of his room to go back to Bakugo.

Taglist: @hopelesshawks @goustcop @pride-of-persephone @jadenyukis-bodypillow @unawi13-blog @sokka-simp @astroninaaa @pansinspace @oikawasiwa @thelifeoftheshorty @camry-orphanaccount @vhskenma @hallothankmas @pinkquartz19 @reblogs-of-things-i-like @xxoperatexx @kiristanfirsthuman2nd @introvertatitsfinest @garbagepale-kid @calumsfringe @itsmysticalmystery @sirachano0dles @bakugousflowerprincess @fukyouthink @ynfics @hadesnewpersephone @cirtruss @cherryblossom242 @chaichai-the-weeb @sergeant102105 @punicorn999 @definitelynotaundrayah @dangerousluv1 @missalienqueen @coffeeaddictedmay @nxynxy @tansyfleurwhisper @insane-without-delirium @ravenkake @thoretical-theo @overzealous-imagination @delightfulartisancolorauthor @multifixx @emomochi

#The Drummer #Katsuki Bakugo #Bakugo Katsuki #Bakugo Katsuki x Fem Reader #Bakugo x Reader #Bakugo x Y/N #Hanta Sero #Drummer Bakugo #My Hero Academia #Boku No Hero Academia #BNHA SMAU #SMAU #MHA SMAU #My Hero Fanfic #Boku No Hero #Boku No Hero Fanfic #Bakugo Fanfic #Reader Insert

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moonlit-raven-haven · 4 years ago

Text

The Past III

Where the reader and Harry no longer speak.

This is unedited!

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: angst, drinking, some language, mentions of blood

A/N: Here’s part three! Sorry it took so long to update! My personal life has been quite hectic and draining and I couldn’t find the energy to write again up until a few days ago. I hope you guys enjoy it! Information regarding tag lists at the end.

Y/N is discharged in the morning just like she had told Harry the previous day. Not having a ride home, she decides to dial Gemma who picks up after only a few rings.

“Hey Gem, think you could pick me up and bring me some clothes please? Mark is at work right now.” Y/N asks and explains as she flips through the random TV channels on the small flat-screen television in her hospital room.

“Hey Y/N, I actually can’t right now…” She trails off, almost as if trying to come up with an excuse not to pick her up, but she doesn’t. “I’m sure Harry can pick you up.” She adds in to her trailing sentence. Y/N stays quiet on the other end of the line. She’s going to see Harry tonight anyways, but would she be able to spend a whole day with him without it being painfully awkward?

“It’s okay...I’ll ask Anne.” Y/N replies as she huffs slightly, going through all of the television channels for the second time, but nonetheless she starts the process all over again.

“Mum is busy with grocery shopping and whatnot.” Gemma says with an urgency to her voice, and Y/N finally concludes that Gemma, or Anne and Gemma want her to spend more time with Harry. Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose slightly before sighing.

“I’ll ring Harry.” She finally gives up, knowing it was no use trying to tell Gemma that she could see past her lies. Y/N ponders on taking the bus, but she knows she’ll get weird and concerned looks, having only the clothes from the previous night and dried blood on her hair.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon!” Gemma exclaims into the phone, the smile evident in her voice as she hangs up, leaving Y/N to hear the ringing of the dead line. She pulls her phone away from her ear and takes a deep breath as she scrolls through her contacts, finally stumbling upon Harry’s name. She hadn’t deleted the number, and she knew it was the same, receiving a text from Gemma with his number attached. Y/N clicks on his contact, an old picture of the two showing up in a small circle next to the call button. The picture is one that Anne had taken at Christmas before they stopped speaking. Y/N was curled up into Harry’s side, the Santa hat she had been wearing slowly beginning to fall off her head as Harry had an arm wrapped around her sleeping form. He was looking down at her, a soft smile on his face as his own Santa hat lit up with small Christmas lights. Y/N smiles at the picture, reminiscing back at how simple things once were.

After a few minutes of hearing the television but listening to her own thoughts, she decides to tap the green button on her screen that has been taunting her for several minutes. Y/N hears the line ring, her heart beating faster with each lengthy tone, and after only the third ring she hears a click on the other end of the phone.

“Hey Y/N.” Harry greets through the phone, his comforting voice making Y/N’s once fast beating heart slow down enough for her to feel calm once again. He knew it was her, he must have saved her number after all these years, but the thought makes her heart sting; why hadn’t he tried to reach her?

“I...Um...I was wondering if you could pick me up from the hospital?” Y/N questions through the small device in her hand as she fiddles with the rough material of the thin blanket that the hospital provided her with.

“Yeah sure...I’ll be there in 30.” Harry says, and Y/N can hear the jingling of his keys and the opening and closing of the door.

“Thank you...and be careful please...the roads are still pretty dangerous to drive on.” She mumbles, shivering slightly at the memory from the previous day.

“O’course...I’m always careful. See you soon.” Y/N hears the muffled sound of the car engine over the phone before hearing a soft click, only hearing the television quietly playing in the background. Over the next 20 minutes Y/N is discharged by the doctor and disconnected from the various monitors. She gathers her belongings, grimacing as she puts on her clothes from the previous day, some of it covered in dry blood still. She grabs her phone off the small hospital table and exits the fluorescent room, thanking the staff on her way out before waiting for Harry in front of the hospital. The floor is wet from the storm the previous day and the current light drizzle of water. She wraps her coat around her tightly, shivering slightly as a gust of wind passes by her.

“I should’ve waited inside.” Y/N thinks to herself as the cold wind bites at her skin, but she’s being courteous for Harry’s sake, or maybe she’s doing it for herself. What she knows is that a mob of fans wouldn’t be pleasant for either of them. So she waits for him outside, hoping that they could drive off as soon as he arrives at the hospital so they could leave.

Y/N is staring up at the gray clouds before she hears a soft calling of her name. She looks up, noticing the window of Harry’s black Range Rover is rolled down. He’s wearing a black hoodie with colorful letters that she can’t make out due to his distance, and some big sunglasses that make her let out a little laugh at their size. She gives him an awkward smile before walking towards the big car and getting in the passenger's seat, immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car and Harry’s scent. Y/N settles into the leather seat as she closes the door and secures the seat belt around her body as Harry begins to drive away from the hospital parking lot.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” Harry questions, his eyes focused on the slick road in front of him.

“No no…” Y/N quickly starts off. “We could go back to your place...we were meeting for dinner anyways.” She finishes her statement as Harry just hums in response. It’s silent between the two despite the words that need to be said; the words that would probably fix everything between them. The rain gently hits the windows as the heater hums in sync with the sound of the engine. The road is smooth beneath the tires as Harry drives through a series of small winding streets.

“Can I turn the radio on?” Harry is the first to speak, and now it’s Y/N’s turn to hum in response. His hand travels over to the radio, turning it on before browsing through different radio stations, but he can’t settle on anything and shuts the radio off once again, his hand settling back on the steering wheel. The car ride is filled with an almost unbearable silence, each raindrop sounding heavier than the last against the car, but finally, just as Y/N is thinking that jumping out of the car isn’t a horrible idea, they reach a small and gated house. Harry pulls up next to a small metal box, rolling down his window and quickly punching in a few numbers before rolling it up once again. The raindrops rolling off the leather interior, the sleeve of his hoodie now a darker shade of black.

The metal gates open up and Harry applies light pressure on the gas pedal of his car, causing it to move forward onto the long cement driveway, all the way to the end which connects to a house, his house. Harry presses a small clicker on the roof of his car, opening up the large garage connected to the house as he pulls into it and closes the garage door once again before turning the car off.

“Let’s get you inside so you could get showered and changed before dinner.” Harry says softly as he gets out of the car, not looking at Y/N once. He knows that it’s still early, early enough to barely eat lunch, but he figures he could try to avoid the dreaded, but much needed conversation for a few more hours. Plus, he doubts that she wants to be in the same clothes from the day of the accident, much less have her hair matted and tangled with dried blood.

“Oh yeah...thanks Harry.” Y/N says as she climbs out of the car, and takes a look at the garage. It’s like any other person’s garage, but emptier due to his constant moving around and barely being home. She gently closes the black car door and walks around to where Harry is standing, inserting a key to a door in the garage. He twists the key and handle, opening the door before pulling the key out. He walks in, holding the door open for Y/N as he motions for her to walk in. She complies and enters the house that’s lit up by the outdoor light. The place is a lot simpler than she had expected, since his career took off she expected him to change just like every other superstar, being taken by the fame and money, but he was not. He remained Harry Edward Styles, her friend of many years and who she always thought would be her first love.

His house is decorated in modern and minimalist furniture, but somehow still feels like a home. Y/N can’t tell if it’s Harry’s scent or small random things laying around that make it feel like home. Picture frames of his family and friends, a random jacket here, some shoes over there, and a few random cups scattered throughout the living room and kitchen. While she looks around, she believes that Harry has moved on from their friendship, and maybe even whatever nonexistent relationship there was between them. There wasn’t a picture of her in sight, or any clue of her ever being part of his life, but what was she hoping for? For him to dwell on her for five years? That would be selfish of her, but maybe for now she wanted to be selfish.

Harry watches Y/N intently as she looks around, noticing slight changes in her expressions, from a half smile to a small frown. Was she regretting her choice of coming with him? Would she turn around right now and ask for him to drive her home? He suddenly thinks that this is a horrible idea, and that maybe things should’ve just been left as is, but he still tries and hopes that she doesn’t want to run away like he has been wanting to do.

“Bathroom is over here.” His voice sounds a bit shaky, almost as if he is nervous. He begins walking through the house, reaching a short hallway with only two doors and some cabinets at the end. He opens the door to their left, revealing a bathroom, and then continues to take a few steps forward, opening the door to their right, revealing his room.

“There’s a bathroom in m’ room if you would like to use that one. You could change in my bedroom afterward if you would like, I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner so you don’t have to worry about me barging in...I mean not that I would barge in...just in case you were worried ‘bout that...not that you sh-” But before Harry can ramble on any further, Y/N cuts him off, a small laugh escaping her lips at his nervous behavior.

“I’ll use your bathroom, you go ahead and make dinner.” She says with a smile adorning her face, oh how much Harry missed that smile. He simply nods and exits the room, opening and closing the cabinets in the hallway before returning with a towel and handing it to Y/N.

“Thanks Harry.” She says softly as she begins walking to the bathroom door in the corner of his room.

“O’course. I’ll leave some clothes on my bed and then I’ll leave and close the door.” Harry explains to her as he walks over to his dresser and begins to open drawers. Y/N hums in appreciation as she walks through the bathroom door and shuts it behind her. She opens the sliding glass door, letting out a small sigh of relief when she sees the water knobs are the same as the ones in her own flat, thankful she wouldn’t have to ask Harry for help. Y/N turns the water on to her desired temperature and begins to strip off her clothing before getting into the shower, sliding the glass doors shut. As she showers, she can hear the muffled opening and closing of drawers outside in the room before she hears the shutting of what she assumes is the bedroom door.

Harry exits his bedroom, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen. As he pulls out the necessary ingredients for spaghetti and garlic bread, his mind (once again), begins to occupy itself with unnecessary thoughts, because never in a million years did he think they would be having dinner together after five years of silence. Harry was aware of how she tried to contact him, and he saw all the missed calls and texts from her, but he was too hurt to ever pick up the phone or to even see her. Now he feels guilty, realizing that he probably caused her pain that she still hasn’t healed from. Had she moved on quickly? Did she see other people before meeting Mark? Or was Mark the person that finally allowed her to begin to move on? Harry shakes his head slightly, now beginning to serve the plates of food and pulling out a bottle of wine. Those thoughts shouldn’t make him feel jealousy, after all, he had tried to move on fast, sleeping and dating people over the past five years, and he was almost one-hundred percent sure that she saw every headline regarding his relationships, whether they were rumors or whether they were confirmed. And while Harry can’t be sure, he can only assume that it hurt to see the headlines, because when he heard of Mark’s existence in Y/N’s life, the pain he felt in his chest was too much to ignore.

Harry is closing the bottle of wine and sitting down when he hears light footsteps in front of him, and as he looks up he sees Y/N, her cheeks are slightly flushed and there is a sheepish smile on her face as she sits down across from him.

“It smells good…” She says softly as she pics up her fork and begins to eat. She’s wearing his hoodie, boxers, sweats, and even his socks, which makes her feel quite flustered, it feels too domestic, like if they are dating, and the thought makes her heart pick up slightly in speed.

What they both thought would be an awkward dinner was actually pleasant, their conversation flowed naturally, almost as if nothing between them had occurred, and as if they haven't spoken in five years. Once their plates are clean of food and their glasses are empty of wine, they clean up the kitchen and head to the living room, sitting down on opposite ends of Harry’s couch, their glasses of wine full again. Their conversation flows smoothly once again, eventually falling into a silence that was almost unbearable.

“Have you listened to any of my music?” Harry questions, as he sets down his wine glass on the coffee table. The question probably sounds narcissistic, but he needs to know, because there are songs that were written for her, messages that he hopes she received. Y/N sets down her glass of wine and tilts her head back before looking over at Harry.

“I only listened to your first album...I couldn’t really bring myself to listen to your second album.” She explains rather timidly, afraid that he would take offense to the statement, but he nods his head in understanding and gets up from the couch.

“We’ll start from the beginning then, so you could get the full experience.” He says jokingly as he walks over to his vinyls and record player. Harry pulls out his first album and sets it up before sitting back on the couch, this time a little closer to her. They fall into casual conversation again, but Y/N doesn’t really listen to the music, too invested in listening to Harry, that is until he puts a finger to his lips, his infamous rose ring glinting in the sunlight.

“One of my favorite songs that I’ve ever written.” Harry says softly as he looks at Y/N. She chuckles softly as “Woman” begins to play in the background. Y/N smiles at the opening line, Harry has always been one for romance, and she couldn’t help but wonder who he had asked to watch romantic comedies with on Netflix, and then the song begins.

I’m selfish, I know

But I don’t ever want to see you with him

Y/N then wonders who this man was, this man that made him selfish and want to keep someone to himself, and who is the person that he loves so much that he wrote a song about not wanting to see them with anyone else? But then these questions are answered when Harry begins to speak.

“Y’know...when mum told me ‘bout you and Mark, I wished desperately that it was me you were with instead of him. And I wanted to go find you, and say that I fucked up, that I’m an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry, but I didn’t. I couldn’t bear the thought of him opening the door, and while I’m selfish for wishing that I was in his place, I also can’t ruin your happiness again…” Harry trails off and sighs, he turns away from Y/N and tilts his head back until it’s resting on the couch and he’s staring up at the ceiling.

Y/N looks at him blankly as he stares up at the ceiling. She had expected a conversation of apologies, then maybe a few words of “glad we’ve moved on,” and then things to be how they once were, but she wasn’t expecting a love confession. And as much as she wants to say that she understands, and that she forgives him, she can’t do that.

“Harry...you can’t do this to me. You can’t waltz back into my life and expect me to drop everything for you. You’re the one that left, I tried to make things right between us. I have a life of my own now, I’ve moved on from our past…” Y/N’s voice is assertive, refusing to let Harry come back into her life unannounced after everything that had occurred between them. But as assertive as she sounds, and as serious as she is about her words, she knows that her last statement isn’t true, and he knows that it isn’t true as well.

“You’re right, I left, and I know that you called...that you tried to reach me, and I blocked you out...I shouldn’t have. But I was afraid that I had ruined our friendship that night I tried to kiss you...now I reckon that I did more damage when I left unannounced.” Harry finally faces her, and while his words are directed at the girl in front of him, he knows these words are also his thoughts. When she doesn’t respond, he is fearful once again, maybe he should have left things alone. Y/N lets out a shaky breath and closes her eyes, not wanting to look at him in fear of breaking down.

“Look Harry, it’s in the past, and I want to forgive you, but I can’t...at least not right now. I spent so long getting over you, trying to forget our friendship and that spark that we once had…” She trails off and opens her eyes once again, staring directly at Harry. “But I need time, and I need space…” Her last words are quiet as she gets up from her spot on Harry’s couch and grabs her few belongings. “I would like to go home please.” Is all Y/N can muster past her lips as she walks over to the door, the very little energy she once had now leaves her body. Harry doesn’t protest, knowing that he has caused damage to the woman he loved, once again.

The drive back to her flat is silent, the hum of his car and the cars around him driving through the rain being the only sounds they can hear. And while the drive to her flat is short, it feels long and tense, making Y/N eager to get to the comfort of her own home and away from the current situation. Finally, the car is parked in front of her flat, and Y/N gives Harry a weak smile once she is out of his car.

“See ya around, thanks for lunch...maybe we can catch dinner another time.” She says as she closes his car door, and Harry’s heart flutters; he hadn’t fucked things up even more than before.

“I would like that.” Harry is quick with his response as he gives her a toothy grin before giving her a slight wave and driving off. Maybe things will be okay in time.

_._._._

A/N: There are two tag lists for Harry content! One for ALL future Harry Styles fics, and one for JUST this fic. Comment “All Harry fics” or “Just this Harry fic” if you would like to be added.

_._._._

All HS fanfic

@rachkon @tpwkhoney @girlboss99 @hilarydenise813 @eternalharry @tpwkxkiwis @wholesomestyles @indieslytherin @harryspirate @harrehiluvyeh

Just this fanfic

@darcysbxtch @makncheese1928 @urdadbtch

Usernames I can’t tag

@mybm1998 @marvelstudies2020 @90smessy @only1doodle

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virtueangel · 4 years ago

Text

limitless.

chapter two.

wc: 2,337. original publish date: october 3, 2020.

"'And oh, Aunt Em! I'm so glad to be home again!' The end," Van Gogh finishes, closing the children's book and setting it on the table.

"That wasn't a bedtime story!" JFK protests.

"I didn't know that!" Van Gogh volleys.

"What do you mean you didn't know that? Everyone knows The Wizard of Oz!"

Van Gogh shakes his head, almost apologetically. "Clearly not everyone," he mumbles.

Kennedy sits up, a bit taken aback. "You mean you've never read The Wizard of Oz?"

Gogh shakes his head, sliding the book off the table and stroking the cover. The yellow finished cardboard is bumpy beneath his fingernails, and it makes a low scraping sound.

"Surely you've heard of it?" JFK asks, eyebrows furrowing.

"No," Van Gogh admits, feeling defeated.

Kennedy unwraps himself from the blanket and sits up, scooting across the bed to console his best friend. He puts a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, but it is only shaken off. His kind gesture and caring attitude deflate like a released balloon.

"I thought every children's book was a bedtime story."

"Nah, but every children's story has a moral," JFK offers.

"How do you know that? Can't imagine heartless ol' JFK reading a picture book. I can't even imagine him as toddler."

Kennedy graciously ignores the first part of Gogh's comment. "My dads used to read them to me when I was a kid."

Van Gogh's smile falls, but thankfully JFK can't see because he's looking down at the book. He runs his fingers over the words, printed in accented letters, shiny and blue. "I bought this book when I was fourteen years old," he admits.

"You bought it for yourself?"

Van Gogh nods, still entranced by the golden-yellow cover of the children's book. "I liked the artwork," he explains, looking up at his best friend now.

Kennedy scoots away from Van Gogh, falsely assuming his work as Supportive Best Friend is through. "You would. It's all oil pastels and shiny objects -- very girly."

Gogh rolls his eyes. "Not all artwork is girly."

"No," JFK agrees, "just the artwork you like."

Van Gogh shoves the boy, not sorry when he hits his head on the wall.

"Hey!" He bellows, rubbing the back of his head vigorously.

"You deserved that," Van Gogh snaps, standing up to slide the book back into its rightful place on the shelf. "Do you ever get tired of your own voice?"

"Um... no?" Kennedy replies, laughing at his own answer.

Van Gogh runs a hand through his vibrant orange hair in exasperation. He snaps the pristine white bandage wrapped around his head, tied there to put pressure on his self-amputated ear in hopes to relieve some of the pain. It works most days, except when there are loud noises -- like on Friday nights when there are sports games and the streets flood with intoxicated teenagers who insist on letting their excitement out through violence. JFK used to be amongst those alcohol-ridden invalids. He's not anymore, but Van Gogh can't figure out why he changed.

But he's still an arrogant, egotistical asshole nonetheless.

Van Gogh scoffs, tempted to shove the boy again, but decides not to because it may escalate into a fight. Gogh would lose. He loses against everyone, his five-foot-five stature doing him not favours. He knows Kennedy could pin him to the ground in three seconds. His shoulders tense just thinking about it and the illusion of pain makes his bad -- or rather, nonexistent -- ear throb. He raises his hand reflexively, rubbing the side of his head over the bandage.

"Does it hurt?" JFK asks, suddenly dropping his macho-jock façade.

Van Gogh bats his best friend's hand away almost instinctively. "I'm fine. Sorry. It just rings sometimes. No big deal."

"Sounds like a big deal."

"Well it's not, okay? I said I'm fine, so I'm fine," Gogh replies.

JFK holds his hands up in surrender. "Jesus Christ, I was only trying to help."

"I appreciate that," Van Gogh sighs. He looks up at Kennedy and opens his mouth like he has a follow-up, but nothing comes out. He closes his mouth and looks away. JFK raises an eyebrow, having noticed the boy's jaw, but doesn't press. He wouldn't want to push his best friend over the edge. God knows he's already so close to the cusp of a fall anyway.

"Your parents coming home soon?" Kennedy asks, reaching for small talk.

Gogh shrugs, eyes fixed on his shoes. He wears black Keds with white toe-tips. The laces are tied in tight bows and are as pristinely white as all of his other possessions -- he'd expect no less from himself. "Who cares?"

"You can't stay here alone on a Friday night," Kennedy says.

"That's why you're here, dipshit," Van Gogh rolls his eyes.

"No, I mean-" JFK sighs. "The whole night. You can't sleep in this house all by yourself."

"Why not?" Gogh asks, looking up at JFK now. The rims of his eyes are red and his jaw is tensed.

JFK huffs, sure the boy is just being difficult now. "Because."

"Because why? Adults do it all the time."

"You're not an adult, Gogh. You're sixteen."

"So?" He spits. "You're sixteen and your dads let you do whatever -- whomever -- the hell you please!"

"This isn't about me, Van Gogh, it's about you and your apparent abandonment issues!"

"I don't have abandonment issues!" He means it to come as an angry denial, but it comes out as a scared protest instead. He tries again, steadying his voice. "I don't have abandonment issues."

JFK shakes his head and raises himself off the bed. "I don't have time for this. Do you want me here or not?"

Van Gogh pulls his socked feet onto the chair and crosses his arms over his chest. His absence of an ear throbs again and it skews his hearing, but he doesn't let on. He's so tired of this up and down with JFK -- they fight, Gogh falls into a vulnerable state, Kennedy drops the argument to console him, Gogh says he's fine, and the cycle repeats. Either they're fighting or they're not. I can't be held hostage by my mental illness, Gogh thinks. I won't be made into a fool.

"Not," he swallows the word, his voice nearly cracking.

"Gogh..." Kennedy says, dropping his attitude.

Gogh wipes at his face, trying to play it off as swiping away mucus from a cold-caused runny nose. "I'll be okay, Kennedy."

Kennedy stands in the doorway, one hand on the smooth white trim -- as pristine as the rest of the room -- and the other hand limp by his side. He turns around to look at Van Gogh, who won't meet his gaze, and thinks of crossing the room to him. He looks so small on that wooden chair, his plain bed made up with hospital corners and brand-new-car-tidy floor filling up with absence. JFK wants to stay with his best friend to make the room feel smaller, to make the house feel fuller, but he knows when to stop pushing. Sometimes it hurts to be edged out of Van Gogh's life... but then again, he's used to it. He's used to being treated as the boy's second choice because sometimes it's easier to confide in a stranger than a lifelong friend. Kennedy doesn't know, but he understands, and sometimes that has to be good enough.

JFK drops his hand from the trim of the doorway and turns back around to face the hallway. He walks between the walls as they close in on him, creating a suffocating ocean with their murky blue hue. He exits the house without glancing back at Van Gogh, forgetting to wonder if he'll be okay. He hates sports games because they make his ears ring, Kennedy reminds himself. Being there won't stop that.

***

John F. Kennedy walks through the door of his house at precisely 8:32pm. His foster dads are both sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with each other, watching a movie that must be pretty damn entertaining with the way they keep giggling. John hates it when people giggle -- the sound reminds him of butterflies, light and airy and so fragile it can't help but be crushed. "Giggle" is a gross word, too. It's made up of all the letters that no one likes to read to form sounds that no one wants to hear. Well, actually, that's not true -- plenty of people like the letters; they're just too predictably common for JFK to enjoy.

"Dads, I'm home," John announces halfheartedly. His parents are so absorbed in the television show that they barely look up -- maybe that's for the best. Arguing with Van Gogh never leaves Kennedy in a very chipper mood.

He sulks up the stairs to his bedroom, gripping the wooden railing firmly in his ascent. He tries to make a point of stomping just so his dads will turn his way -- he's not in the mood for talking, but he's accustomed to demanding attention.

John flops down on his bed -- it's king-size which means it takes up the majority of the room, but Exclamation!'s biggest playboy has got to decorate his bedroom for the aesthetic somehow. Kennedy's phone buzzes and when the screen illuminates with the name Cleo printed in thin white letters, he almost smiles, but remembers he's still blowing her off. He can't figure out why; most nights he would be ecstatic to whisper sweet little nothings in her ear. He starts to feel bad about ignoring her, but then remembers that she isn't his girlfriend -- he doesn't owe her anything. And even if he did, everyone's expectations of him are so low that even the bare minimum is seen as a prayer answered by god themselves.

He means to only flip his phone over to hide the screen, but he accidentally pushes it off the edge of the bed. It bounces on the carpet, landing corner-first, but JFK is too tired to care about whether or not the screen is cracked. He rolls over onto his back, folding his arms over his stomach and staring at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused. His head starts to rush -- possibly from the cold air intruding his bedroom from the open window, or more likely from emotional strain. He replays through the day, memories of Cleo's hand grasping his bicep and him leaving her alone to go help Van Gogh. Everyone always wants a piece of John F. Kennedy. He never meets anyone's expectations, and yet, everyone religiously seeks his approval.

"Fuck them for relying on me as their source of entertainment," he mutters up at the ceiling. "I wish no one in this goddamn town knew me at all."

And yet, there's still one person exempt from the statement. Sure, everyone in Exclamation! is mushy-headed and smooth-brained, but going to high school here is a pit stop in JFK's life, and a vital one. Because while 99.8% of the Clone High student body give Kennedy a stomachache, there's still 0.2% to be taken out of the perfect whole.

JFK rolls -- no, literally rolls -- off of his king mattress to reunite himself with his phone. He taps the screen, lighting the machine to life. He slides away the "missed call" notification, erasing Cleo's name from his home screen. He unlocks the device and taps on a contact, which speed dials a certain someone wallowing in their room on the other side of town.

The phone goes to voicemail once, twice, but Kennedy doesn't give up. He knows the boy is receiving his calls -- it's not like he wants to be alone on a Friday night.

But then again, he might be drawing or painting or reading a book or doing homework or-

Van Gogh picks up on the second ring of the third call. "Leave me alone, JFK. I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

The line goes silent as Van Gogh fishes for an answer. He comes up short. "Look, I told you to leave because you upset me-"

"Let's go on a trip," Kennedy suggests, intentionally cutting off his best friend to avoid an uncomfortable conversation that would probably result in tears, yelling, or both.

"What?"

"Let's leave Exclamation!. I'm tired of it here, and I know you're not too crazy about it either."

The line goes silent again as Van Gogh hesitates. "Kennedy, that's absurd."

"How do you figure? It's not like your parents would miss you," he replies without realising how it sounds.

Thankfully, Van Gogh doesn't comment on it. If he's hurt by his best friend's words, he doesn't let on. "But we have school..."

"I don't care about school."

"But I do," he says, icicles freezing over his voice.

"Please, Gogh? I need a break from it all."

"What do you need a break from? You're everyone's favourite jock. Scudworth loves you. You're somehow pulling straight As even though you never do your work... I'm betting you're banging one or all of your teachers."

"I am not banging all of my teachers!" Kennedy exclaims defensively.

Van Gogh smirks through the phone. "But you are banging one."

JFK shakes off the boy's words. How does the point always manage to get away from him? "I know you're unhappy, Van Gogh."

"That's an understatement," he scoffs.

"Right. Well, don't you want to explore the world?"

Van Gogh doesn't respond.

"Draw? Read? Write?"

JFK still isn't selling him.

"Paint?" Kennedy tries one last futile hope.

Gogh's ears -- ear -- perks up. "Paint the whole world?"

"Well, we'd only be visiting a little at a time-"

"Okay," he replies too hastily, cutting off his friend. He swallows, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down as if the boy can see him through the phone. His fingers snag on the bandage again. He gives up. "Okay. Let's go on a road trip."

"You mean it?"

"Sure." Van Gogh can hear Kennedy smiling through the phone, his expression melting like honey and dripping down the line. "Why the hell not?"

#clone high #clone high van gogh #clone high jfk #jfgogh #fanfiction #comfort character #ship #lgbt

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daddysfangirls-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Toddler do over

Request

Summary: Hi, can you d a shy! reader x dad! Tony where she is in the lab but something goes wrong and gets turned into back into a toddler

Warning: fluff

"What the hell happened?" Tony asked as he held his teenage- or now toddler daughter in his arms.

"Well, you see," Peter began with a laugh, but it was cut short as Tony glared at him "We were in the lab I was doing homework, but she was already done, so she was looking around the lab. She was looking at your latest invention she dropped it, and it went off and... this is what happened. Sorry"

Tony groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I already told Bruce as he came quickly when he heard the bang. He's working to fix the machine and told me to bring her to you. I don' know what to do. I've never taken care of a kid before-"

"I'm not letting you take care of my daughter. Don't worry. I've got it from here." Tony said, waving him off.

"I am sorry, Mr. Stark."

"You're fine, kid. It was an accident she's still here she's still alive that's what matters. Here I made you guys so lunch." he said, making Peter take a seat and giving him a sandwich. "Here, Bunny baby, I made your favorite," he said, putting (Y/n) down across from Peter.

(Y/n) was still in her big girl clothes, or just her big girl shirt at this point, and she has had yet to say anything since turning she did shed a few tears, but besides that, she was pretty silent. It seemed weird to Peter.

Peter watched as Tony cooed and awed at his little girl stroking her hair and talking her in a childish voice.

"Hey - what's that?" Steve, Bucky, and Sam stopped in their tracks as they spotted the young toddler sitting at the table.

"(Y/n)There was an accident in the lab. She's a toddler now." Peter said nonchalantly as if it wasn't weird.

"How long is this...?" Bucky motioned to the child Tony glared at him.

"Until Bruce's fixes it."

"That's okay. We'll have fun until Bruce fixes you", Tony said as he kissed her forehead and picked her up. "Let's go get you some new clothes. Something cute." he then whispered her away.

Tony was very eager to spend time with his toddler daughter. He was ashamed to admit it, but Tony wasn't very present at the beginning of (Y/n) life. She arrived on his doorstep at the age of three. At first, he didn't believe her to his, but when it was proven he was still cautious of her, it took him a couple of weeks before he genuinely started acknowledging her and trying to get to know her. Tony blamed his lack of parenting back then on the fact he was still reeling in from his drug use and alcohol problem, which didn't make it any better. Also, something else he'd never tell anyone it took him two months at having her before he kicked his bad habit.

Tony was eager to replace those horrible or nonexistent memories with something new and beautiful. - "Wh-what???" Pepper was very shocked and just absolutely stunned and confused at sight in front of her. Tony had a camera in taking pictures of Peter, who was on the floor with a toddler on his lap, wearing matching outfits.

"Hey," Tony said, not even looking at her continuing to take pictures.

"Hi," Peter said, using the little toddler's hand to wave at her.

"What is this? What's going on? who's baby is this?"

"This is a photoshoot, We're taking pictures in cute outfits, and that's my pretty baby (Y/n). She's so cute." Tony listed off as he cooed at her getting her to smile.

"How?"

"there was an accident in the lab. Don't worry, and Bruce is working to fix it." Peter said, trying to reassure her, he could see the panic in her eyes.

"Oh, and-and why aren't you helping him."

Tony finally looks up" It's okay, he's got this. What do you expect me to do to leave my angel with those animals? I think not." he scoffed and went back to take pictures.

"She is cute," Pepper said as she too began to coo and make (Y/n) smile. "Why are we having this photoshoot."

"I realized I don't have many pictures of (Y/n) as a baby. I want to make up for the lost time. I want to do it better. I want to be a better dad".

"Oh Tony"

"Alright, outfit change."

"And diaper change," Peter said with a sink face.

- "aren't they adorable," Tony whispered to Pepper. Peter was sleeping on the couch and (Y/n) was sleeping soundly on his chest, both wearing matching Iron Man Pajamas. Peter had got permission for his aunt to spend the night.

The day had been very eventful with a toddler (Y/n). They did a photoshoot, finger painting, playing outside, snacks, hide and seek, superhero, etc. They spent the day running (Y/n) out of energy, and after dinner and bath time she, and Peter, were out like a light.

"yeah," Pepper said, kissing Tony on his forehead. "(Y/n) was always a cute baby. Bet Peter was too"

"I'm going to have to get May to get me some baby Peter. That will be something to see."

"Come on, let's go to bed."

"What about the kids? Shouldn't we put them to bed?" Tony was hesitant to leave looking back at the children.

"They're fine."

"What if he rolls over what if she falls off?"

"With the sea of pillows put on the floor, she will be found. He won't let her get hurt. She's safe. They are safe. Come to bed." Pepper said, pushing him out of the living room.

"Alright, just hold on" going back into the living room, he kissed both (Y/n) and Peter good night. Pepper smiled as she watched the little bit of fatherly affection. "You're a good father, you know."

"Today I was," he said as he pulled Pepper into his chest "I hope she remembers this when she's back to normal... I wish it were like this in the beginning." "Maybe it can."

Tony stopped looking at her, confused. She just smiled as she gently rubbed her stomach.

"wh-no"

"Yes"

Request tags

permanent tags

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@acupofhotlatte @actors-hot @drakesfiance @qwazykayyy

#request #tony stark daughter #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter #Iron Man #iron man fanfiction

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hes-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Insecurities (2)

Summary: Harry is good friends with Camille and Y/N is insecure

Warnings: angst (ish)

Word Count: 2.6k

Read part 1 here

Y/N did not have the best body but it was ‘good enough’. She didn’t have the brightest personality but it made her who she is. Her style wasn’t extravagant—it was simple and casual. And she wasn’t the best at anything. In fact, everything she knew was at the surface level—she couldn’t delve too deep into a conversation about politics, argue that Socrates was the better philosopher to Descartes or discuss how writing a song in F major gave off a happier vibe than a minor key.

All these proved that she can fit in but she cannot necessarily stand out. Maybe that was the problem. Y/N didn’t know much but she knew enough.

She knew that her insecurities were getting the better of her because she had never ended on friendly terms with an ex. Nor did she fall so deeply in love with anybody else aside from Harry. It was causing an inner turmoil in her tummy that made Y/N sick to her because something was wrong and she didn’t know how to fix it.

Y/N was aware that it would be unfair to him to say that he couldn’t communicate with Camille again. So what was she to do? Wallow in the depths of self-pity, hoping that Harry would magically read her mind and do it himself? Of course not.

Y/N bit her lip, hearing the door open and close as Harry exited her apartment. He said a quick goodbye to her, informing her of his whereabouts before leaving with a peck to her head. Harry assumed she was resting a bit—as she often did while she was studying. She could get moody most of the time too and maybe that’s why he didn’t think much of it when she hummed in response.

Alone with her thoughts, Y/N felt a tear drip to her hairline, cooling her skin with the path it took. Her chest crumbled with a shudder as a small sob managed to rip through her throat. The sound reverberated in the barren room to echo back in her ears and it reminded her of how weak she was. Very weak that she was doubting her self-worth for a man that was so stable, so sure, and completely unapologetic for being himself.

Y/N compared herself to a lot of people she deemed better than her. She didn’t predict that she would compare herself to Harry. To be so insecure and shaky with herself—unsure whether she was enough or not. It wasn’t right but she couldn’t help but feel unworthy of everything. Jealousy directed to Harry for having something that she wanted—confidence. Insecurity projected to Camille for being someone that she wanted to be because sometimes being yourself isn’t enough.

It was the sad reality of having a mind like Y/N’s and she so badly wished that she could specifically rewire her brain to not think like that. She should be happy with what she’s got. Her body, her mind, her little quirks that Harry absolutely adored but she despised. Not once did Harry explicitly cross-sectioned her and Camille to each other but it felt like his friendly words and supportive actions towards her told enough.

She can never be Camille and Y/N was disappointed in herself because of that.

------

When Camille answered the door for Harry, his mind was figuring out ways to comfort her as a friend. She greeted him with a small smile, wiping the grin off of his face, fully knowing that it used to be much wider, brighter in a sense that it made her face more angelic. He really did love her with the fullness of his heart. It made him frown a bit, toeing off his Chelsea boots beside the closet nearby. His socked feet pattering against the cold marble of her house, sending a chill down his spine.

“Want some tea?” Camille asked, noticing his shiver. She plugged in the electric kettle having been already filled with water beforehand despite his retorts. Camile never really listened to him. Regardless, he stretched his arms over his head, puffing his cheeks out as he situated them on his slim hips,

“How are you?” His quirked brow caused her to pause, slowly shutting the drawer that held the various teas she could offer. Her demeanour put him off--she used to be more lively.

“Better now that you’re here,” Camille responded, seeming to float on her feet to grab two mugs from the cupboard. Her feet tiptoed to the high shelf, failing to get the object and causing her to huff in frustration. A warmth behind her back and a small touch to her elbow made her freeze, Harry’s tattooed arm passing in her peripherals to help her out, his height easily becoming an advantage.

He took a couple of steps back, watching her turn around hesitantly, “T-thanks,” She ducked away from him to pour the boiling water in the mugs. She gulped, shaking her head softly to try to get rid of her thoughts. Harry had moved on from her-- that she knew for sure, but Camille couldn’t help the persisting thoughts overtaking her mind. She still wished that he held feelings for her. They were together for quite some time and she just couldn’t believe that feelings could disappear that quickly. Hers was still lingering around, like the ghost of a smile that he showed her right now. A relic of what they had, soon vanishing from her grasp and existing only her memories.

“Are you really okay? The tabloids can be a bit tough,”

The more she thought about it, the more she was sure of her answer and the problem that arose with it. The fact was she was okay, and frankly, she felt a bit guilty having Harry come over all the way here for a dilemma that he thought was about the media. She felt as though she tricked him just so she could see his built frame, hear his raspy voice, and fill her senses with his natural scent--just like she used to before they broke it off; before she let his good nature slip between her thin fingers to replace him with who she thought was better. Camille missed him to the point of desperation, a little white lie that had him caging her in a corner to help her alleviate the pressure of the outside world.

He spun slightly on the stool, pausing when he saw her lips stutter around her words.

“The media doesn’t bother me,” She admitted, lashes casting downward to the floor. His heavy hand cradled her shoulder, shooting her a gentle smile.

“Hey, you don’t have to lie. It’s me,” His voice was soft, piercing her insides with remorse. “Just Harry. You and me, remember?”

She stared at him longingly, yet he failed to notice the heart eyes she was currently oogling him with. It used to be her and Harry. Camille and Harry, together against the world. He used to say it when things got too rough; when the pressure of everyone drowned them from what was important--each other.

“Not anymore. It’s you and Y/N now,” Despite hating the fact that the curly-haired man wasn’t hers anymore, Camille couldn’t spit the couples’ name out in spite. Although her heart ached to have him back, the logical part of her knew that he was happier in the arms of someone else.

He furrowed his brows in a confused manner, wondering why Y/N was suddenly in the picture, “What was that?”

Camille swallowed harshly, deciding to rip the words from her throat, “I still love you, Harry.”

Harry dropped the hand from her should, eyeing the steaming cup of tea wafting in the air. He was taken aback by her words, not knowing what to say but aware that his feelings for her were nonexistent.

“C-Camille, you know I’m with her,” He began, hoping that his words did enough to comfort her. “I love Y/N.”

She blinked, a tear splashing on the counter, fully prepared of his response but it did not come any easier. It still hurt to hear him admit that what they had was in the past. “I know,”

“I’m sorry,” He pulled small body towards him, wrapping his arms around her in a hug, his chin resting at the top of her blonde head. Camille let herself be cradled for what she knew was the final time, savouring the moment that his strong arms protected her from anything that could ever hurt her, even though she hurt him first.

Harry felt a push to his chest, the blonde woman wiping away a few stray tears, chuckling at the situation, “You should probably go back home to her now,”

He admired her bravery, putting up a strong front for his happiness, unlike his petty self. “Friends?”

She nodded in agreement, pushing him towards the front door, “Yes. Now, go!”

----

The door creaked open, Harry’s head peeping out of the crack before carefully pushing the barricade to let his slim body through. His head whizzed in confusion as he saw the living room lights switched off, just as he’d left it, not seeing his love sitting on the carpet engaging in her studies. Usually, he’d be able to hear her before he saw her but silence met his ears tonight, leaving him scouting for an explanation in curiosity.

Small sniffles echoed from her bedroom door as he took timid steps, the floorboard weeping with each movement. He twisted the knob, gently revealing Y/N’s slouched body, back against the headboard. Her eyes widened at his presence, quickly palming her damp cheeks to her hairline in an attempt to hide her tears. The tip of her nose was blush pink and a little runny, but he couldn’t care less about her appearance. What matters the most to Harry right now was his little honey crying and he didn’t know why-- so he asked.

“And don’t say it’s nothing. You’re crying.” His lips were set in a thin line, turned down at the sides.

Y/N peeked at him through her wet lashes, hesitating with her words, leaving her mouth agape as they stared at each other. Harry’s face was mounted with worry, brows furrowing as if to weigh out the possibilities.

“Where did you go?” Y/N asked with a tone that Harry could not quite comprehend.

He strode to the side of the bed, shifting his bum on the soft mattress. She didn’t move farther away, yet she did not scoot over to his body like she usually would. “I went to see Camille,”

“Why?”

The moisture in his throat managed to vanish in the short time span-- he swallowed heavily. “S-she needed me,”

Y/N’s breath hitched, snapping her head down towards her hands fiddling with a minute stain on the bedsheet while Harry’s head flopped to try to catch her stare. He could always affirm what she was thinking off just by a glance at her eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s this about?” Harry hummed mildly, caressing an arm across the expanse of her shoulders. “Need’ to tell me so I can fix it,”

And his words hurt, despite the meaning behind them because he was Harry and he is nice and kind to everyone he meets. Y/N’s clouded mind couldn’t help but think of the worse--what made her so special? Did she even stand out to him or was she just like everyone else? Before, she felt on top of this world special but to know that he could do the same for anyone else was a slap to the face.

“You come running every time she needs you?” She shrugged his arm off, moving her legs in a criss-cross position under the sheets to feel more stable. Harry tilted his head in surprise at the sudden change in her mood.

“She was sad about the tabloids, I had to go. She called me--,”

“I know. I heard.” Y/N snarked. Looking out to her window, she could see the sun slowly setting across the horizon--she couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

Harry didn’t know what to say, his eyes held confusion and wonder to what she was pertaining to. Was Y/N jealous?

“‘Said she was the ‘kindest, sweetest person’ you’ve ever been with’. I wonder where I’ve heard of that before--oh wait,” Y/N zeroed in on his figure, a crease was firm on her forehead. “Is that just something you say to everyone?”

The staredown she was giving him had him shaking in his boots; his mistake fluttering in every corner of his brain, alarm blaring that he truly fucked up. He didn’t even realize the gravity of his words, knowing that deep in his heart, he only wanted to make Camille feel better.

“Did you even mean it when you said it to me?” Her voice cracked a bit during the duration of her question, reminiscing the context to which he let the words slip past his pink lips. It was the first time he professed his love for her, complimenting her with butterfly-inducing graces that had heart thumping through her chest. “Did you mean it when you said that you loved me?”

“Of course I did,” Harry responded right away, shaking his head in rejection at her accusation. “Don’t you dare question it. I love you. Always,”

She breathed in deeply, letting his response sink in her bones, left to wonder where this conversation would go.

“I-I didn’t realize I said that to her,” He started off, scrambling for words without getting tongue-tied. “I swear I didn’t. I was only trying to make her feel better..”

“But you hurt me instead,”

“I didn’t mean to!” He almost yelled in frustration, voice dwindling when she moved away from him slightly. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He took her hand in his, grazing his thumb against her silky skin. “I love you, Y/N.”

She didn’t move an inch, trying to categorize what was real and what was a shadow of her doubtful thoughts against him.

“Camille used to be that person but she’s not anymore--you are.” Harry stuffed a hand in his hair, tugging at the roots as he chuckled humourlessly, “I was blinded by love but not anymore. She didn’t feel the same way a-and she cheated on me.”

Y/N tightened her fingers around his, making him smile subtly, his dimples concaving against his cheek. He returned the squeeze back to her, “And then I found you. You showed me how to love again and what it’s like to be loved.”

His unoccupied fingers lifted her chin up so that he could gaze into her lovely eyes while he dictated honest words from to bottom of his heart, “I love you.”

Sometimes Y/N couldn’t help but let her insecurities drown her in distasteful thoughts. Words created by her saboteur to tear her down because she believed she didn’t deserve the love she shared with Harry-- because she was too plain, too broken to be given a love’s miracle that she forgot how much he did love her.

And at this moment, observing the emotions that flooded his eyes, his face and the aura he was presenting as if he would be lost without her---she knew that look. It was the same loved up gaze that he gave her across the console while he thought she was too distracted by keeping her eyes on the road. She felt it burning her cheek as she read the materials for her courses, deeming her too engrossed in learning that Y/N wouldn’t notice the admiration he held for her. The look that draped over her naked body when they made love, her hair acting as a curtain from the ministrations of the outside world while she rode him with passion. Harry stared up at her with ardent, her eyes blissed out and pink lips damp with their heated kisses--a look of love that she noticed despite the pleasure overtaking her body.

He loves her and only her.

——

hello! I’m not sure if you guys are liking the content I put out or if tumblr is just being weird 😩😫

anyways, I hope you enjoyed this!

------

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Insecurities (2) Taglist: @littlewolfieposts @zavidzobrik rik

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you

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tiifalockhart · 4 years ago

Text

Safety

@wistful-wings asked: Since you asked, request time! :D Somehow a degrading Genesis winds up in a soft warm bed with someone looking after him because damn he's sick the guy needs some love and care damnnit.

Pairing: Genesis x Reader

Warnings: mentions of starving, death, trauma, depression and anxiety.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I have finally delivered the Genesis content. Hope this is okay!! Thank you so much for your request, feedback is always appreciated!

Ao3 || Masterlist

Everything was cold.

His skin was cracking, his fingertips were permanently cold, his hair and features had all turned an ash grey. It was a curse: living a life where Genesis already knew his fate. No matter how hard he fought, he was trapped in a shell that was falling apart. He fought like hell to end up losing to himself.

Every day, breathing became more and more of a chore. His on-setting depression began to consume him. Sephiroth’s words from Nibleheim rang in his mind unendingly, he was constantly reminded of what he was to become.

“You will rot.”

One of his only friends throughout his life, his partner, his idol (no matter how much he hated to admit it now) had destroyed him with those three simple words. He felt like shit. Genesis ruined everything... Now Angeal was dead, and Sephiroth was nowhere to be found. All of this for revenge... If he had quietly left, maybe they would still be alive, maybe they would have come with him.

As much as he hated Shinra for what they did to him and the others... It certainly wasn’t worth losing everything.

For years, he had been hiding from anyone and everyone. He was afraid to show his face, the shame and guilt of what he’d done consumed him. What would Angeal do if he were still alive? He would have turned himself in... Or something like that, wouldn’t he? Dammit. It was conflicting... Genesis was so unsure of himself majority of the time now.

He was so cold and lonely, his body was failing him in more ways than one, and his intrusive thoughts certainly didn’t make the long and dreadful days go by any faster. Life was... Painful to say the least. Genesis managed to find a cave to hide in, somewhere where the sunlight wouldn’t give him migraines, where the public eye couldn’t find him, he felt surprisingly safer in that cave than he did with his own thoughts. He struggled to find peace, his mind screamed at him over and over about how he was a monster, how he killed his friends and how he deserved this unbearable fate.

Eventually, the pain of existing became too overwhelming one day, and he found himself wandering through Midgar aimlessly, trying to find some kind of release from this dreadful life. He thought it was the end for sure this time, his coughing had gotten worse, his limbs were weaker than ever, his skin was pale and his hair was the color of the Modeoheim snow. He didn’t have enough power within himself to perform a fire spell to attempt to warm himself up again. He knew this was the end. Maybe... It was for the better.

When he blacked out finally, no one would have ever known he was gone. Genesis was a distant memory at this point, who would have cared about his disappearance? He prepared himself to face the meaningless afterlife, to be rejected by the Lifestream and simply float out to nonexistence.

So, when he heard that gentle voice coaxing him back to life and reality, confusion hit him like a truck. Genesis thought he was dead for sure this time, so why was it he could hear a voice calling out to him?

“-ello?”

“Are you okay?”

“Wake up, you’re safe now.”

Confusion flooded Genesis’ features when he stirred. He wasn’t floating aimlessly in the Lifestream... He was alive still... Somehow. His eyes examined the room around him. He appeared to be in a bedroom, small potted plants and knick-knacks decorating the open space. Next to him, he noticed you sitting in a chair, a look of concern decorating your features. Once he was full aware and all his senses returned to him, he sat up quickly, a distrusting glare taking over his features.

“Where am I?!” He demanded, staring over at you. You raised your hands in surrender automatically, your eyes widening at his sudden outburst.

“You’re... You’re in my house. I saw you passed out, I thought you were hurt-” You explained hurriedly, sitting back in your seat. “I made you food... And brought some water.”

He raised a brow and glanced over at the plate and cup sitting on the bedside table. From what he could see, it was already better than anything he had been eating for the past years. Hesitantly, he relaxed a little, nodding lightly. “Thank you.” Genesis muttered softly.

A sigh of relief left your lips as he seemed to calm down. “Are you feeling okay? Do you feel sick? Maybe weak?” You asked, examining him for any injuries. He shook his head slowly, frowning slightly.

“No, I feel normal.” He lied, even though his mind was racing with thoughts. Why did you take him in? Why did you trust him? It didn’t make sense. Do you not know who he is? He was bewildered from your... Normal response to him.

You nodded awkwardly in response. “Well... You can make yourself at home until you’re ready to go.” You stated, standing and heading towards the closet. “I have some old clothes that might fit you. You can also use the bath if you wish.” You explained, placing a couple of towels on the foot of the bed, along with an oversized sweater and sweatpants combo. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought you here... I couldn’t leave you there, though.”

Genesis looked over at the outfit and towels, narrowing his eyes slightly. Now you’ve decided to take care of him? He didn’t deserve it, he was a murderer, a manipulator, a... Monster. Monsters don’t deserve to be taken care of. He pushed those thoughts away quickly, attempting to find his voice once again. “Thank you.” He responded, his voice sounding strained. It sounded like he was forcing it out.

However, you didn’t waver. You simply assumed it was him struggling to be thankful, which was fairly naïve. How were you supposed to guess that he was having an internal battle between his confusion and his intrusive thoughts? “Well... I’ll be downstairs. Dinner will be ready soon, you should come downstairs after you bathe, if you’d like.” You explained, nodding awkwardly.

Genesis didn’t respond this time. He was unsure of what to say. The tension in the room simply grew thicker the longer you stayed there, so you left fairly quickly. After the door closed again, Genesis let out a breath of relief as he pushed himself off the bed and stumbled over to the mirror. His hair was still white, all color had vanished from it. His dark circles, his pale complexion, his colorless eyes all stayed the same. No wonder you brought him in, he looked like he was on the brink of death. He let out a shaky breath as he pulled away from the mirror, unable to stand looking at himself anymore. Instead, he distracted himself with moving to the bathroom. Walking was a chore in itself, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else at the moment. Dammit, why was he so weak? He used to fight battles back to back, now he can barely walk a few steps without feeling like collapsing.

After finally reaching the bathroom, he took his time with bathing, appreciating the feeling of warm water flowing down his back. The scar on his back appreciated it too, it didn’t sting when the water hit it just right. It was... Nice. His sore muscles could relax a little, while his limbs slowly regained their strength. Once he was out of the shower, he pulled on the loose clothing, silently appreciating the looseness and comfort of them.

Just as you requested, Genesis arrived downstairs awhile after the two of you parted. His eyes scanned over everything in the house, he noticed small mementos from your family and friends, picture frames of different people, random things that managed to explain the type of person you are. He also noticed that the small dining table was set for two people, you and himself he assumed. Out of everything he noticed though, you were nowhere to be found. He checked the kitchen, the living room, and the dining room once again. There were no traces of you anywhere. A confused expression settled on his features, until he heard the front door open. Hesitantly, he entered the room and raised a brow once he saw you.

“Oh! I didn’t realize you would be done so quickly.” You pointed out, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips. “I was just feeding the street cats.”

“I was in there for an hour.” Genesis mentioned, which caused your cheeks to obtain a light shade of pink. “You feed... The street cats?” He asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, a lot of them get dropped off here. It’s really sad, so I make sure I feed them every morning and every evening.” You explained, guiding him back to the dining room. “I decided to go ahead and do it, I figured you’d be longer than an hour.” You added, heading into the kitchen as Genesis took a seat at the table. He found you to be such a curious creature... You were kind to everything, no matter what its background may be. He watched you closely as you worked, his eyes following you as you returned to the table.

You carefully placed an extravagant meal in front of him, a shy smile forming on your lips. It consisted of steak (behemoth meat), along with other healthy sides. He stared in amazement as you placed the final item, a small basket of bread, in front of him. “I usually don’t eat like this... I figured today would be the day I make something nice.” You explained awkwardly, taking a seat across from him. “Feel free to eat as much as you like, or as little. The rest will be used as leftovers for myself or the cats.”

Once you began to serve yourself food and eat, Genesis finally snapped out of his daze and followed along, serving himself relatively small portions at first. He wanted to taste everything first, before digging into his favorites. Unfortunately for him, though, he found everything to be absolutely delicious, it was the best food he’s had in years, even when he was working at Shinra. He finally gave in and decided to fill his plate with everything, hoping that he could eat it all.

The two of you stayed in silence most of the meal, you didn’t seem to mind that Genesis wasn’t interested in conversation. He was grateful for that, his face was so full the majority of the time that there was no time to speak. Somehow, the two of you managed to finish the meal on your own. Genesis felt like he was on the verge of a food coma by the end of the meal. He was beyond thankful at this point, you had done so much for him with no questions asked, you were quite literally a gift from the goddess.

When you were cleaning up, Genesis decided to show his thankfulness a little. He helped you carry the dishes into the kitchen, and he offered to clean them as you wiped down the table. To you, it was a sweet stranger, especially from a stranger like him. You could sense him beginning to trust you, which calmed your nerves a little more. The odd factor was the fact that the two of you had hardly spoken at all. Besides a couple small exchanges of words, it was mostly silent between you both. It was a little unnerving, but you couldn’t think of anything to fill the void with, so you simply dealt with it.

As the night rolled in, the awkward silence that you and Genesis had slowly developed into a comfortable silence. You ended up introducing him to the cats outside, but he appreciated them from afar. You also offered some books he might like to read, he was uninterested in them. Eventually, it was getting too late and you were fairly exhausted.

“I’m going to sleep soon. You’re free to do whatever you wish... If you stay, that’s okay, but you also don’t have to stay.” You explained, looking back at him from the stairs.

He raised his brows, a heavy feeling forming on his heart. “...Are you sure? That you don’t mind me staying.” Genesis asked, his tone a bit quieter and sensitive.

You smiled in response to this. “It’s your decision. I don’t mind having you around.” You answered, giving him a reassuring nod. He hesitated and looked away, a conflicted expression forming on his face. You took this as the end of your conversation and continued up the stairs.

“Wait!” He called out, taking another step up. “I didn’t really say thank you.” He stated, furrowing his brows. “I... I don’t know how I can make it any more genuine. But seriously, thank you for everything.” Genesis murmured, looking down at the floor.

A soft laugh left your lips, which caused him to look back up at you in confusion. “Why thank me? I’ve just treated you like a house guest.” You pointed out, snickering. “You’re welcome... I guess? I thought what I did was bare minimum...” You muttered the last part to yourself, before shaking your head and looking back at him. “I’ll do better tomorrow!” You decided, a determined look in your eyes.

For what felt like the first time in awhile, a smile formed on Genesis’ lips. It wasn’t a smirk, or a deceiving grin, it was a genuine and heartfelt smile. It felt... Weird. He liked it. Maybe he’ll stay for longer then... “I’m looking forward to it, then.” He responded, matching your lighthearted banter.

The both of you stood still for a moment, as if finding some way to continue, before you finally broke the silence again. “Well... I should get some sleep to prepare for tomorrow. See ya.” You waved down at him, before heading off to your room for the night.

Genesis couldn’t really describe the feelings he felt at that particular moment, but he knew that staying was a better idea. A fresh start... Maybe it won’t last for so long, but it was a nice break, especially since the position he’s in currently isn’t exactly the best. Or maybe... He didn’t have to explain himself. He was going to stay because he wanted to.

He felt safe with you, and that’s all that mattered.

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