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emetoniche · 1 year ago

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Sushi Gone Wrong

Okie dokie guys, got that food poisoning fic up for ya’ll. It’s a long one, but it was worth the extra time spent writing. It turned out pretty good. It’s the first one I have all four of them together, but I’m hoping to do some more like that in the future.

tw: emeto, some very light scat (not even for more than a couple paragraphs, I don’t usually do scat, but this seemed to fit with the theme. Also, torturing Justin is my favorite hobby. He’s my babyyyy)

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Justin was excited about his date that night. Roan had been looking for a good sushi place for ages, and he was over the moon that he was the one who had finally found one. The restaurant, called Sushi Don, came highly recommended by Justin’s best friend Eddie, and his Eddie’s boyfriend Callum. Apparently, the two boys visited the place at least once a month, so they clearly knew what they were talking about. Eddie had reserved a table for four, at six o’clock that night: a double date. It was a Saturday, so classes were out and homework had been finished in the campus library earlier that morning. A relaxing evening was the perfect end to the week in Justin’s opinion.

Roan slid into the passenger seat of Justin’s silver Toyota, dressed in a stylish pair of black skinny jeans and a soft, white halter-top. Around her neck was a silver necklace with a tiny diamond charm on the end, and her dark hair was loose, but fell perfectly around her face in waves. Justin couldn’t help staring at her for a few moments. Even after the two years of being together, sometimes he still couldn’t get over how gorgeous his girlfriend was. Roan caught him staring and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night, or are we actually going out?” Her tone was playfully sarcastic, and she was smirking slightly at him as she spoke. Justin laughed, putting the car in reverse to back out of the driveway.

“Yeah, yeah,” he retorted, “we’re going. But we could’ve left a lot sooner if you hadn’t had to stitch yourself into those pants.” Roan gasped, pretending to be mortally offended.

“Excuse me,” she huffed, “but, I thought you said you liked these pants. If you don’t, I guess I’ll just throw them out. Maybe my ass looks better in sweatpants anyways.”

Justin’s eyes went wide. “No no no!” He was backpedaling furiously now. “No, you’re right! Those pants are hot. It’s worth the wait!”

“That’s what I thought,” Roan said. “So hush up and drive, I want sushi!”

When the couple arrived at Sushi Don, a small Japanese-style building just off the main highway, Eddie and Callum were already waiting for them inside. Justin held the door open for his girlfriend, shooting Eddie a sheepish grin. “Sorry we’re late guys,” he apologized. “There was some trouble with… her choice of jeans…”

Roan glared up at him, but Callum just laughed. “Trust me Justin,” he reassured, “if I could get this guy here to wear pants that tight, I would wait all night to see it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, poking Callum sharply in the ribs. “Yeah, not happenin big guy,” he said over Callum’s high-pitched squeal. “I am not trying to squeeze these legs into pants like that. Ever.”

Callum sighed dramatically, looking up at the ceiling. “You never do anything I want,” he groaned. Roan laughed, patting him on the arm sympathetically.

The four spent the next hour devouring eight rolls of sushi, and when they were finally done, all of them were comfortably full. Roan slumped back into Justin’s arms with a contented sigh. Justin gave her a kiss on the head, then turned back to Eddie and Callum, who were poking each other in the stomach trying to compare who was more full.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” Justin told them, already sliding out of the booth. The meal had been paid for, and Justin was starting to get tired. Roan looked equally exhausted, but Justin knew she was too stubborn to say anything about it, at least not while the other two were around.

Eddie nodded, shoving Callum out of the booth. Callum grunted, smacking Eddie’s arm as he stood. “Why you gotta be so mean to me,” he whined, glaring at Eddie. Eddie rolled his eyes, grinning.

“Cause you like it,” he retorted, hands going to Callum’s hips and pressing their bodies together. Callum tilted his head slightly up so he could look Eddie in the eyes. “And when we get home, I’m going to be even more mean. Tie you to the bed maybe,” Eddie added in a growly murmur.

Roan stood up with an exasperated look on her face. “Geez guys, wait till you’re in the car at least,” she groaned, shaking her head. “You two are gonna give me diabetes with all this sweet, mushy stuff.”

Justin wrapped an arm around her, reaching his hand down to squeeze her ass. She squealed, reaching back to slap his hand away. “Mushy stuff is your specialty though,” Justin teased. “You never stop at home.” Roan gave him a light elbow to the gut, to which he groaned dramatically. “Owwww…”

Justin and Roan parted from the other couple just outside the restaurant. The drive home was mostly uneventful, apart from nearly hitting a squirrel stupid enough to walk out onto a highway. About five minutes from the house, Justin glanced over to see Roan looking slightly uncomfortable. “Everything okay baby?”

She jumped slightly, as though brought out of deep concentration. “Huh? Oh, yeah, fine. Just a bit nauseous. Probably ate too much, it was all pretty good.”

Justin was unconvinced, but Roan looked more herself when they reached the house, chattering on about one of her fitness clients. As he brushed his teeth a half-hour later however, Justin noticed a faint twinge in his own stomach. He tried to convince himself that he had also eaten too much, but the coincidence of both him and Roan feeling off at the same time was eating away at him. He paused, bracing himself on the bathroom counter, staring upwards pleadingly. “Don’t let it be what I think it is,” he muttered. “Please, God, don’t.”

Justin collected himself, rinsed off his toothbrush, and wandered back out into the bedroom. Roan was already curled up in a ball under the covers, eyes closed, but when Justin flicked the lights off and climbed into bed beside her, she said, “Justin, how common is it to get food poisoning from sushi?”

Justin’s stomach lurched. Ohhhh no. She was voicing his concerns all too well, only increasing his dread for what he now was almost positive was coming. “Oh, uh, not sure. Probably not very,” he replied, forcing his tone to stay calm. “Why do you ask?”

Roan grunted. “Nothing important.”

The next two hours, Justin lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He was hoping that if he focused hard enough, his stomach would stay only mildly uncomfortable and not progress into true nausea. It was not working, to say the least. By midnight, he had his hand on his stomach, palm rubbing circles. He was just starting to feel a bit more confident in his stomach rubs, when the bed jolted violently beside him. He sat bolt upright as Roan threw the covers to the foot of the bed and scrambled into their bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

As concerned as he was, Justin was almost too terrified to follow her. He knew what he would see, and he did NOT want to see it. Eventually he worked up to courage to creep over to the door and knock lightly. “Roan? Baby, are you okay?”

“Fine, go away,” came the call from inside, followed by a stifled retch. Justin’s skin crawled, but now that the situation was firmly established, he made himself accept his fate. They had gotten food poisoning from that restaurant and he was most likely going to be in the same place Roan was. Unfortunately for him, he had an incredibly weak stomach, where as Roan was literally known for her steel stomach. She had practically no gag reflex, could watch people vomit with no issues, and had eaten things such as scorpions and mice without so much as a groan.

Against Roan’s wishes, Justin opened the bathroom door, stepping in and closing the door back behind him. Roan was in her knees in front of the toilet, hair hanging down in her face, sweat clinging her shirt to her back and chest. She glared up at him from the floor, forehead pillowed on her wrists resting on the toilet seat. “I said go away,” she rasped, voice already raw from retching.

“And when do I ever listen?” Justin had the reply ready the second she stopped speaking. He moved over and knelt by her side, gently pulling her hair back. For a brief moment, Roan tried to push him away, but she apparently decided she needed his help because she let him continue without much of a fight. Justin had just gathered all her hair in his hands when her back arched, shoulders hitching up to her ears in a retch.

Justin hurried to put his hand on her back, rubbing it while muttering soothingly to her. Her slender frame trembled with the force of another gag, this time bringing up a thin stream of stomach contents and leaving a strand of spit hanging from her bottom lip. “Holy fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Fu-uUURgHGH” A gush of vomit splashed into the toilet, leaving Roan breathing hard.

Justin’s stomach was struggling through all this. He already had been starting to feel sick, and the sight and smell of Roan vomiting were just making things worse. He turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face into his arm. A grating retch sounded in the bathroom, followed by the splash of thick puke falling into the porcelain bowl.

It was a serious fight at this point to keep his stomach contents where they were supposed to be. He was trying his best to keep holding Roan’s hair back, but he had to stop rubbing her back so he could press his hand to his mouth to stifle his own empty gags. His eyes were still closed when the toilet flushed. “Damn… That hurt like fuck, but I feel so much better now,” Roan told him. “I think I’m done, my stomach feels a lot better, thank Go-” She broke off as she got a good look at him for the first time since she had started throwing up. “Holy shit babe, you look awful.”

“Gee, thanks,” Justin muttered, taking those slow deep breaths people take when they’re trying avoid puking. He didn’t open his eyes, trying to use the blackness to center himself. It wasn’t working. He felt Roan’s hands on his shoulders, guiding him towards the toilet. “No, go lie down, you’re sick.” His voice came out much weaker than he meant it to, but he managed to open his eyes through the towering waves of nausea crashing down on him. He saw Roan shake her head in exasperation, giving him a small smile.

“I’m fine, you know how my body works. I already feel almost normal. Five more minutes and I’ll be back to one hundred percent. You on the other hand…” She trailed off, looking him over. “Yeah no, I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere.”

Justin gave a small laugh, slowly closing his eyes back as his stomach roiled inside him. He could already feel Roan’s caretaker mode switching on. She always got so concerned and, in her words, mushy when he was sick. He leaned into her arms to hurry her switch along, moaning softly. Playing it up? Definitely. But it worked like a charm.

Roan’s voice was soft, practically a coo, as she said, “Aw, baby, I’m so sorry, you must feel so sick.” Justin nodded pitifully, giving her another little moan. It was less of him milking it this time though, because he stomach had finally decided it was done with messing around. He forced himself to sit up and open his eyes, moving his hands to brace himself on the toilet’s rim. His breath had gone shallow.

Roan got onto her knees next to him, just as Justin had to her only minutes before, one hand on his stomach and the other rubbing his back. “Shhh… just let it out baby, it’s okay.”

Justin’s stomach took this as an invitation to begin expelling everything inside it. He gagged harshly, a thick rope of saliva trailing in the toilet water. Another retch had heavy chunks sliding up his throat. He had to choke up the sludge it was so thick. It slid off his tongue into the toilet with a visceral splat. The sound made him retch again. The vomit that came out this time flowed much easier, sending a flood of relief over Justin even through his misery.

In the brief space between gags, Justin sucked in deep breaths. His head started to spin, the bathroom swirling circles around him. He could no longer see straight; everything was a blurry mess. The spinning in his head made his stomach revolt again, and a thin trickle of stomach acid fell from his lips.

As soon as his stomach began to feel like it was done with vomiting, his lower abdomen cramped horribly, causing him to wrap his arms around himself and groan. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” He was panting now, and while his head had mostly stopped spinning, he still had his eyes squeezed shut against this new pain. “Baby…” He paused, hopelessly embarrassed. “Baby, it’s…”

Roan stared at him for a second, then finally noticed his change in expression from nausea to pain. “Oh shit, it’s okay Justin, I understand,” she reassured him, helping him to his feet. “Just breathe, you’re gonna be fine.” Once she got him standing, she tugged his pants and boxers down. He was still too immobilized by the cramping in his intestines to do it himself. Roan guided Justin backward until he was sitting on the toilet.

Justin managed to get ahold of himself enough to realize that Roan was still standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder. “You should go,” he moaned. “I don’t - ah ow - I don’t want you to see me like this.” His cheeks burned. He was completely humiliated. Roan had helped him when he was sick before, but never like this. Sure he had thrown up on her multiple times, woken her up in the middle of the night to help him puke, and been unable to help her clean any of it up, but this was something else entirely. This was horrendously disgusting; he didn’t want his girlfriend to have to deal with it.

Roan snorted, rolling her eyes. “Okay, seriously? I’m not even going to dignify that with a proper answer.” Her tone softened, voice dropping. “Justin, I’m not leaving you in here alone.”

Justin couldn’t decide if he was more grateful or more humiliated. He loved her so much, and how willing she was to stay by his side, but he still wasn’t super keen on the idea of shitting his guts out in front of her. As it turned out, he didn’t have much of a choice, because his guts clenched suddenly, sending a heavy stream of fire pouring out of him. His teeth clenched as the torrent continued, focusing intently on Roan’s hand on his shoulder, trying to ignore the horrible smell that made him want to vomit again. Roan must have seen something in his face, because he heard the scraping of plastic on tile. When he opened his eyes briefly, there was a trash bin sitting under his head.

As much as he didn’t want to, he dry heaved over the bin, the sensation and smell getting to him far to easily. He finished with the toilet before he finished with the bin. It took a few more heaves that brought up nothing but stomach acid and tiny bits before he finally sat up, confident he was done. This was when he noticed that Roan was no longer in the bathroom.

A bolt of disappointment and anger struck him. She had said she wouldn’t leave, but she just snuck out without a word while he was immobilized? He couldn’t believe her. After cleaning himself and the bathroom up, Justin walked back into the bedroom. Roan was sitting crisscross on the bed with her back to him, her phone up by her ear. She clearly didn’t hear him come in because she kept her conversation going without even glancing back at him.

“I know, but still. And you’re sure it’s not that stomach bug Callum had a couple weeks ago? Alright then. Yeah, I know, sounds like a stupid question now that I think about it. All four of us at once? Too big of a coincidence. Yup, you guys too. Bye.”

Roan put her phone down on the bedside table, slipping off the bed and turning towards Justin. She froze and blinked a bit when she saw him standing there. “Oh, hey babe, feeling any better?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Justin grunted. He didn’t really want to be mad at her for leaving him, given everything she had already done for him, but he was still so miserable that he felt a bit betrayed.

“Everything alright?”

Going over to his side of the bed, Justin grunted again. “Mhm, just fine.” A moment later, sitting on the edge of the bed, he felt Roan’s hands on his shoulders, sliding over his bare skin.

“Come on Justin, I know something’s wrong. Why are you mad at me?” Her words were murmured in his ear, her breath tickling his cheek. Somehow, even after vomiting, her breath still smelled minty. He wondered briefly if she had taken a breath mint or something.

“Nothing, I just- ” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I just wish you had said something before you just walked out of the bathroom. You just left me there.”

“But baby, you told me to leave. You didn’t even want me in there to begin with.”

“Yeah, I know, but… I don’t know, it’s stupid. You’ve already helped me a lot. Sorry.”

Roan slid over to sit beside him, their thighs pressed together, her head on his shoulder. “No, it’s not stupid. I said I would stay and I didn’t. I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t have left you.” Justin tilted his head to rest it on hers, breathing in the strawberry scent of her hair.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “Hey, who were you talking to by the way?”

“Hm? Oh, Eddie. He and Callum both are sick too. Eddie’s thrown up four times, but he ate the most of the sushi, so it’s not surprising.”

Justin nodded, lying back and pulling Roan with him so she was curled up against his side. His stomach still gave pitiful rumbles every now and again, but it didn’t feel like he was going to puke anymore. He just wanted to lie there with Roan and enjoy the feeling of her warm skin touching his.

#emeto #emetophilia #emeto tw #puke #vomiting #emeto kink #emeto mention #my writing #sickfic #emeto fic #Can you tell I love Justin? Totally not obvious at all #Time to torture my babies some moreee #food poisoning tw #but seriously this one is kind of my new favorite now

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thesolferino · 4 years ago

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Favor

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, fluff

⤷ word count: 8.4k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: dream asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a day. things only seem to go downhill from there.

It started as a favor.

On a quiet night in your apartment when you stared at your phone for way longer than your eyes could physically take and rolled around on the bed, talking to one of your best internet friends, Dream, he asked you for a favor. His voice was muffled through the mic on his phone, the one connected to his computer way cleaner, but neither of you could bother getting off FaceTime and call on Discord instead - yet you still heard him loud and clear, because you burst out laughing right after.

“What the hell did you just say?” you laughed, turning on your stomach and opening the call, now entirely focused on the timer that counted every second you spent talking to him instead of your Twitter timeline.

“It’s embarrassing, don’t make me repeat it!” And for that sole reason, you wanted him to repeat it, loud and clear.

“Is this why you were so insistent on me coming down to Florida? So I could pretend to be your girlfriend at your cousin’s wedding so your family doesn’t think you’re a loser?” you laughed, finding the situation entirely absurd as he sputtered, words mashing together, trying to defend himself.

“No! No, I wanted you to come here because we’re friends and I-I wanna meet you, this is just a… benefit, of sorts.” he replied, and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder at his poor attempt of trying to save face.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” you chuckle. “What’s in it for me?”

“Whatever you want.” he responded, much too quick. Your eyebrows raised.

“Whatever I want?” you parroted.

“Yes.” he confirmed. “I’ll buy you something, if you want; I’ll even pay you-”

“Pay me?! I’m not a whore, Dream!”

“That is not AT ALL what I was saying!” he cut in, yelling as you burst into a new fit of laughter. “It’s just… I sort of already told them I have a girlfriend and I was just hoping you’d say yes ‘cause it’s gonna be very awkward if I show up without the girlfriend in question.”

You put your head in your hands and he sort of dryly laughed at himself when he heard your palm hit your forehead. “What is wrong with you, man?”

“Listen, it’s not gonna be so bad! Just stay by my side for a bit, look pretty, we’ll get some drinks, and then dip. That’s it, I promise.” he reasoned.

“And here I thought we were gonna make out in front of everyone. What’s a fake relationship if we don’t make a show out of it?” you sarcastically snickered, and could practically see his eyeroll from miles away.

“If that’s what you want, then we’ll do it, by all means.” he replied and you laughed, shaking your head in mild disbelief.

“Alright, well, if you already told them, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” you huffed, pretending to be way more bummed out about it than you really were. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you so much, oh my God.” he replied and you chuckled at the sheer relief in his voice.

A few seconds of silence pass. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“How do you want me to publicly embarrass myself in exchange for this favor?”

“Personally, I think that forcing you to tweet that tweet about pissing yourself in bed again and also tweeting that everyone should subscribe to me isn’t “publicly embarrassing” at all.”

“Maybe I should’ve picked a different fake girlfriend.”

“Sucks to suck, pissbaby.”

The weeks leading up to your meetup felt like years, with every treacherous minute of you two talking over muffled mics and shitty webcams feeling longer than it should, your empty apartment feeling emptier and emptier by the day. Was it even possible to miss a person you hadn’t even met yet?

It turns out that it very much was, because as soon as the painfully long weeks were up and you were finally metres away from him, you jumped in his arms like a woman finally seeing her soldier husband after the war, standing on your tiptoes while he bent down the best he could to hug you back. His chest rumbled with a warm laugh when you turned your head ever so slightly towards his ear.

“Hello, boyfriend.” And just like that, the warm turned into a groan of faux annoyance while you burst into laughter and he pulled away, scanning your face with an equally annoyed look.

“I should’ve never asked you for that. You’re never letting it go, are you?” Yeah, you were kind of annoying with the amount of corny boyfriend jokes you threw his way - you had to give him that. But then again, he crafted his own fate and now he must accept the consequences.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise your majesty wasn’t appreciating the work I’m doing! I just won’t show up at that wedding, how about that?” you bit back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re such an idiot.” he laughed. “Give me those bags.”

A blissful week had passed, and he hadn’t pissed you off in real life nearly as much as you thought he would. It took a bit of getting used to to his family calling him Clay instead of his beloved internet username, and you did get a couple of suggestive looks from his mother the first few times she visited - you had a couple of “eye conversations” in which she never exactly asked if you were his girlfriend, and you never exactly denied it, but you knew both of you felt the weight of the unspoken words yet you had to keep everything secret and ambiguous. Or at least you thought you did, before he revealed to you that he told his mom the two of you were dating already. Seems like the glances were knowing and not questioning. Maybe you weren’t as good at eye conversation as previously thought.

Living with him was fine, mostly because he had godly air conditioning and a house that was probably way too big for him, and also a very cute cat that followed you everywhere and made living with a man for a full two weeks way more bearable. Finding out that he can’t cook was one of the most bizarre revelations about him that you’d had in the years of your friendship, and you demanded he watched as you made chicken wraps. You complained about how he was 21 and couldn’t cook for himself, he complained about how it’s 2021 and he can just order from Chipotle or something, dude.

A week of goofing around and trying to hide the fact the two of you temporarily lived together from the internet had passed quicker than it should’ve, and for the first time in seven days, Netflix was turned off and the two of you were dressing up for the wedding, ready to set off with his parents and younger sister. He spent ages trying to convince you to match with him, which was quite literally impossible because he wore a black suit and you brought a red dress, which resulted in the two of you roaming around a local mall at 10 am, half asleep, looking for a reasonably formal black dress, because of course Dream always got his way.

An hour of arguing and your fashion tastes clashing later, you picked an off shoulder black dress with a high slit, along with a pair of pumps, both of which you forced him to pay for, and went back home, ready to glam both of you up as much as humanly possible because you were not ready to let him show up in some horrendous pair of shoes and claim to be your boyfriend.

“Is this okay?” you questioned, turning from the mirror to face him and let him be the judge of your shimmery black and white eyelids, spending way too much time on a makeup look for a wedding of someone whose name you didn’t even know. He blinked at you as his judging gaze washed over you like a wave, scanning you up and down while you nervously cocked your head, leg tapping in faux impatient annoyance to cover up the fact that you felt like prey under his eyes.

“It’s… yeah, it is. You look good.” Dream confirmed, nodding his head at you in a movement that was way too quick and snappy and you turn back to the mirror with a huff, watching him stare right back at you.

“Too much, right? I should try something else.” You say, grabbing your makeup remover wipes, but he cuts in before you can even wipe a single smudge.

“No, no, it looks good, I promise. Really good. Don’t touch it.” Something way too sincere in his voice makes the air tense, more tense than usual, but you drop it, deciding to just take the compliment with a tight lipped smile.

“Okay. You ready?” you ask, and he nods, nervously straightening out his suit before looking back at you with an anxious grin.

“Yeah, I think so. Do I look fine?”

He did. He looked more than fine. You’d never seen him actually dress up for something and put proper care into his looks - he was practically forced into doing it by you this time as well - so seeing him in an actual black suit, all formal and expensive looking, messy dirty blond hair properly combed for the first time in ages, made you gulp and look away. You sort of never understood the argument that women and men can’t be friends because you were never attracted to one of your male friends, ever. Dream was born to be an exception to every rule, it seemed.

Realising that you abruptly looked away, you attempted to awkwardly clear your throat and smile at him.

“Yeah, you do. Let’s go.”

During the ride there, his mother seemed to finally explode and the words that have clearly wanted to pour out of her mouth for ages finally came out. You supposed it was better for the poor woman, and did your best to suppress a laugh when Dream dramatically sighed and leaned against the window when she nosily spoke up.

“So… since when have you and Clay been together? He’s told us absolutely nothing!” She spoke up from the passenger seat, shifting to look at you, excited smile plastered on her face and you politely smiled back, mentally noting that you’d have to bully the shit out of him for acting like his mom is embarrassing him in front of his 8th grade crush.

“Ah, we’ve been friends for a long while, but we only started dating a month or so ago, because it’s hard doing long distance and all that.” you said, hoping it would sound believable enough because the two of you rehearsed this a few days ago, writing out a whole backstory from how you started dating to what exact words he used when he asked you out. There were a couple of arguments here and there, such as the fact you refused to say you confessed you’ve been in love with him for years and he refused to say he admitted he’s been your “bottom bitch” for 3 years but in the end, you somehow managed to agree on a cohesive timeline of events.

“Oh, does that mean you’re going to move here?” she questioned, and that one didn’t surprise you either, Dream having prepared a full list of answers to questions that people might ask in your notes app. He was a perfectionist to the point it got on your nerves, but that had its own perks.

“No, but I’ll definitely visit more often, and if it goes well, I might as well move here.” you smiled back at her and she nodded, going back to staring through the windshield. You and Dream exchange a relieved glance that you hope his younger sister doesn’t notice.

“Let me tell you, I was waiting for you two to get together! He always talked about you, I was getting tired of him, you know that?” she giggled and you widened your eyes at Dream who, snapping out of somewhat of a daze, immediately jumped to protest, light blush adorning his pale cheeks.

“No, I didn’t! I did not, mom, don’t lie to her.” he argued while all she did was laugh.

“Oh come on, it’s not embarrassing now that you’re together!” she kept going, and his younger sister joined in, to make it even worse.

“Yeah, you do talk about her a lot, not gonna lie.” she spoke up and his cold glare directed her way told you everything you needed to know, hanging on by a thread not to burst out laughing. He refused to even look your way, turning back to the window as his cheeks started heating up. You couldn’t help but let out at least a bit of a giggle, placing your hand on his arm in fake comfort.

“It’s okay, you can admit it now.” your tone borderlined on mocking and he knew you’d make fun of him for days to come so he stayed silent while the rest of the car burst into laughter.

The wedding was truly beautifully set up, set in a hotel wedding venue, walls painted in pure innocent white with hints of gold here and there, and you nudged Dream as the two of you observed in awe, asking what sort of money the groom had to be able to afford this sort of expensive venue. Nudging him proved to be way easier now, because you linked arms - you originally made fun of him for suggesting to walk like that instead of holding hands like normal people, telling him you’d look like you were at your high school prom, but he persisted, and you didn’t end up looking as goofy as you thought.

“He’s a doctor or something, pretty sure.” he replied, quick feet trudging down the long hallways, your own struggling to keep up with him, especially in your heels. He seemed to be in a rush to sit and get it over with as soon as possible so he could avoid any nosy family members, but bad luck followed him everywhere, it seems, because as soon as you two entered the place where the bride and groom would unite, at least three different pairs of eyes locked on you, and you immediately saw a fairly elderly woman get up with open arms, staring at Dream with a grin on her face. You saw him immediately tense up, and almost laughed right then and there.

“There’s my boy! Oh, you’ve grown so much, come here!” The woman looked to be in her fifties and Dream let go of your arm to nervously laugh and fall into her hug, the two rocking from side to side as she kept going on about how it seemed that he grew taller and taller every time she saw him.

When the two pulled away, her eyes fixed on you, judgingly scanning from head to toe and you suddenly realised why Dream tensed up the way he did - old white women sure had a way to make you anxious. Thankfully, he stepped in.

“Aunt Bessie, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is aunt Bessie, my mom’s older sister.” he generously offered the explanation you were so obviously lacking and you grinned, as if that information helped you in any way, and stuck out your hand in an offer of a handshake. However, she seemed to have different plans, because as soon as she heard the words “my girlfriend” her face lit up as if she won the lottery and her lips stretched into a smile, opening her arms for you the same way she did for him.

“Oh my God, you finally got a girlfriend? Come here!” she said, shaking her head at your outstretched hand and gesturing you to return the hug which you quite hesitantly did, politely laughing as she hugged you tighter than you’d deem appropriate. Dream came from a family of huggers - that much was apparent from him, you guess, but you weren’t exactly prepared for this.

Aunt Bessie seemed to be way louder and screechier than expected, because the word “girlfriend” boomed through the room and off the snowy walls, and at least five other family members of his turned around to check who the lucky fellow that finally got a girlfriend was. Another one of his aunts seemed to notice the commotion and suddenly, another older woman with shoulder length, dyed blonde hair, along with her two younger kids, was hurling at you as well.

“I always complained to him that it was about time he got a girlfriend! He’s a fine young man, no wonder you picked him, honey.” Aunt Bessie shot you a knowing look and you closed your mouth in a tight lipped smile in a feverish attempt to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape you.

“Oh yeah, he definitely is.” you giggled, looking up at Dream again who looked like he wanted the earth below his feet to open and swallow him whole. Before you could nudge him in the ribs and tease him for hours to come, the other aunt suddenly spoke up.

“Clay! Oh my gosh, is that you?” she exclaimed, shocked grin on her face, and you briefly wondered if Dream ever even visited his family. He nervously smiled, obviously not really sure who this woman even is, but he hugged her back anyway, clearly walking the line between ‘happy to see his family’ and ‘insanely uncomfortable’.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, your dad hasn’t visited since we moved to Toronto! Look at how tall you are, you’re taller than my husband now! You used to be so tiny, whatever happened to you?” Upon hearing the word Toronto he seemed to realise who he was talking to as his eyes softened, and you wondered if he really was so expressive or you could just read him that well.

“I grew up, I guess.” He awkwardly laughed and she laughed harder than she should’ve before turning to you.

“Oh, and who is this?” She said, gaze periodically switching between him and you, a knowing smile on her face which told you she definitely knew who you were.

“Ah, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is… my dad’s cousin, Mabel.” He introduced, large hand landing on your back, and you felt like you were experiencing déjà vu at the way her face lit up at the mention of a girlfriend.

“Wow, it’s so nice to meet you, Y/N!” She said, energetically shaking your hand, before turning back to Dream. “You never told us you got a girlfriend! You’re finally planning on settling down, huh?”

Your head snapped in his direction at the speed of light when she mentioned settling down, and you could see him tense up as well as he nervously laughed.

“Yeah, we haven’t visited in a while, so nobody from the family really knew. And, uh… we haven’t really thought of that yet, we’re taking it slow and everything.” He said and you were almost in awe at how good he was at bullshitting. The woman did nothing but laugh.

“Ah, don’t lie to me, I see the way you two look at each other! It’s your wedding we’ll be attending next!” She winked, and just as Dream got ready to fake laugh once again, her family called her over and she excused herself, walking off.

The two of you hurried to your seats as well, sitting down next to his younger sister.

“Your family is insane, man, holy shit.” You laughed in disbelief, staring at him as he shook his head, clearly as distressed as you were.

“Literally nobody in this family gives a single fuck if I’m single or not except the old aunties. And I seem to have a shit ton of those.” He muttered under his breath. “The way you look at each other - I literally didn’t even look at you properly that whole time!”

You cackled at that one, hitting his arm. “She’s right, Clay. You’re one fine young man, eh?” You nudged him as he groaned in embarrassment, only turning your way to glare at you.

You didn’t get to tease him for much longer, though, because the organ started playing and the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up, the groom standing at his designated place. The bride walked in, arms locked with her father, thin white veil covering her face as she walked down the aisle, looking angelic in her puffy wedding gown. Silky brown hair fell down her shoulders, curled towards the ends, and you could see the hint of blood red lipstick beneath the veil. She looked beautiful - the groom seemed to think so as well, because you could see him tapping the corner of his eye lightly, wiping any stray tears.

She finally made it to the end and stepped to face her soon-to-be husband as her father moved away, sitting back in his chair. The wedding officiant stepped up, and held a speech much longer than it should be, which just led you to zone out.

One day you’d be beneath that veil, wouldn’t you? One day, you’ll face your fiancé the same way she is, and you’ll let your hearts link with a string that nobody but the two of you could snap. Who would that be, though? Who could you even trust with your heart in their hands? And you’re not aware of how and why and when, but your eyes shot up at Dream, whose eyes also glinted in that way where you knew he wasn’t paying attention, and maybe he was thinking about the same thing as you. Maybe one day, you’ll be attending his wedding, forcing one of your friends to play a fake boyfriend as he wipes his tears, waiting for his bride to get to him.

It was disheartening, the thought of being a bystander while he locks lips with somebody else. You supposed you just liked being the center of attention, so you let yourself pretend you were his bride in your daydreams. Separating daydreams from rational thoughts was mandatory, because you weren’t sure how you’d explain to yourself that you can’t stand seeing Dream marry someone else.

Dream, the infamous hopeless romantic, still seemed out of it, maybe even a little emotional, despite not being that close with either of the two. He was probably thinking about his own wedding as well, thinking about his future, the face he’d see when he pulled back the veil.

Just then, his eyes darted to yours, and you realised you were caught staring, snapping your head back to the couple that started reading their vows by now. You started going red from the neck up, cheeks on fire as you could feel his gaze burning into you. He turned back after a few seconds, though, probably assuming you stared at him because you were bored, and neither of you spoke, even though you kind of wish you did. What even is there to say, though?

By the time you snapped back, the “I do”s were already being said, and her veil was getting lifted, showing her beauty to everyone present, and as they kissed the whole room bursted into cheers and applause in support of the newlyweds. The two exit, teary eyed, their parents follow close behind, and that’s when Dream’s family rushes both of you to your feet, following the two into the reception hall where the actual party would take place.

From then on, the wedding is the same as any other. The two have their first dance, they give a welcoming speech, and Dream lets you stuff your face with cake and repeatedly refills your wine glass as repayment for dragging you into this whole thing. At some point, he stretches his hand out to you and asks for a dance like a rom-com main character, and you’re not sure exactly why he did that because he’s mostly terrible at dancing, but you had fun letting him twirl you until you got dizzy anyway.

You also realised just how much he did actually need a fake girlfriend, because it seemed like every twenty minutes some sort of relative of his would walk up to the two of you and congratulate him on “finally getting a girlfriend”. You ended up bullying him for that as well, wondering just how long he’s been single for if they’re all this surprised that he’s got a girlfriend, to which he just downed the glass of water he’d been sipping for half an hour and asked you about the weather.

His family took a few pictures with the new couple - you even got to speak to the bride at some point, congratulating her and wishing the two of them well, but in the span of a few hours, the wedding was over and the newlyweds made a great exit, signifying the end of the party. The two of you were driven home by his parents, and you waved them goodbye as you stumbled to the front door, your heels insanely uncomfortable and the red wine in your stomach weighing down on you; you just wanted to get out of this dress and into a pair of pajamas and pass out on his couch in the living room.

That’s sort of exactly what you did - you half-assed taking your makeup off, wiping down your face a couple of times, deciding that was enough before changing into some worn pajamas and plopping down on the couch next to Dream who already claimed his place and sunk into the cushion while a random movie played on the TV. The two of you basked in the comfortable silence that surrounded you, the exhausted, tired type. You both appreciated the quiet and fell asleep sitting next to each other, wedding already forgotten.

That night, he went from Dream to Clay.

The departure was bittersweet. You left two days after that, your hug at the airport tight, warm, filled with a sugary sweet feeling you couldn’t quite place and sour acid that ate away at you because you didn’t want to leave in the slightest. His arms were warm, inviting, whispering for you to stay but you left anyway, waving him goodbye, setting off to home.

It seemed like all your problems came and went with him, because a week later, at 3 in the morning while you were up editing a video, you got an all caps message on your Discord from Sapnap.

“YOU’RE DATING DREAM?”

You blinked at your computer screen, white letters blinding you in the dark, brain trying to keep up with why he even thought that. Within 10 seconds, another message, this time from Dream.

“so i told george and sapnap that we’re dating”

“don’t kill me pls”

Yeah, you weren’t going to kill him, per se, but he definitely made your life a lot harder than it should be. You opened Discord, Premiere Pro and the unedited video abandoned, typing back to Clay quickly.

“WHY”

He responded immediately, as one panicked man does.

“they’ve been making fun of me for being single for ages now :(“

“we already did this fake dating thing before and it went perfectly fine”

“just play along for a month or so”

“pls”

You audibly sighed. And as if he could hear you, he started typing again.

“i’ll promote you on my channel more”

“just pls do it”

“you love me, right”

Another sigh fell from your lips before you could stop it. Of course you did, because if you didn’t, there’s no way you would be playing into this. You typed back.

“fine”

He messaged back immediately.

“THANK YOU”

“LOVE YOU <333”

With a shake of your head, you mumbled “idiot” with the ghost of a smile flashing on your face, switching back to your video, opting to ignore Sapnap for a little bit. He could wait.

Fake dating seemed pretty damn easy during the first week - you thought you were killing it by sending corny tweets and staged selfies so he could screenshot them and send them to the groupchat, giggling on call about how oblivious they are and how you’re fooling them so good, both of you opting to ignore the parts where they claimed they knew the two of you were gonna get together eventually. It was fun, lighthearted, and an excuse to flirt with someone you had nothing official with.

As much as all your problems came and went with Clay, though, they came and went with his friends as well, especially that hopeless man Clay called his best friend.

Because yeah, of course Sapnap was the one to accidentally spill to the public that the two of you were “dating”.

George was streaming at what was apparently a normal time in the UK, not so much for Florida, and Clay was sleeping while you were watching his stream while making some food for yourself. It was going fine, a bit of a chill stream, and you leaned against the fridge as your oven preheated, tired eyes following his Minecraft skin.

“Sophie, thank you for the dono! ‘Hey George, I love your videos, just wanted to ask if you were speedrunning with Dream today?’” he read out, and you could faintly hear Sapnap join the stream through your headphones.

“No I’m not, Dream’s… I don’t know what Dream’s doing right now, actually. He’s not responding to me, though. Probably talking to his girlfriend still.” he continued, exaggerating the last part mockingly, still playing into the whiny role of being upset that Clay was ditching the two of them for you. That majorly woke you up, though, as you stood straight on your feet immediately, because oh no, nobody was supposed to know.

You exited out of the Twitch app quickly, letting the stream play in the background as you tried to fish for Sapnap’s profile on Discord and text him as quick as possible, trying to warn him to not let anybody know, but before you could do it, you heard his laughter clear in the stream.

“Yeah, Y/N, his sweetie poo.” Sapnap said, causing George to laugh even louder, before moving onto the next topic, and your heartbeat picked up an insane amount, nails loud and probably damaging your phone screen as you typed as quickly as humanly possible to yell at him because this was not planned, at all.

You heard him go quiet after you shot him a couple of messages over Discord (“SAPNAP” “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID” “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU” “NOBODY KNOWS YET” “IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU”), type something to George who then fell quiet as well for a few seconds, pure horror on his face, and then went back to streaming as if nothing happened while Sapnap profusely apologised to you on his and George’s behalf.

No apology could fix what had already been done, though, and you were left alone with the warzone that was Twitter who had already speculated the two of you were dating long before while Clay peacefully slept somewhere in his house at 4 am in Florida. You bombarded him with messages and waited until he woke up ‘cause what were you even supposed to do?!

You chose to spend your time finishing the pizza you were originally supposed to make and almost burnt your whole apartment down because you forgot the oven was on for a whole hour while yelling at Clay’s idiotic best friends. You yelled at Sapnap, who kept apologising to you, you yelled at George, who yelled back that it’s not that big of a deal because people were bound to find out anyways, and you yelled at Clay, because he was the guilty one somehow for not being awake during your breakdown.

He did eventually wake up though, to the shitshow that were his notifications with at least thirty messages from each of you, messages from his other YouTube friends who were fairly surprised, and his entire fanbase going ham on Twitter. He was surprisingly calm about it - calmer than you were, anyways, and sheepishly said over the phone that the fake dating thing may have to go on for a little longer since you couldn’t just date for a month and then break up, and you were sort of okay with that.

And of course, the business side of him awoke at that moment, and he giddily told you about the amount of views the two of you could pull if you did the same shit you do with George and Sapnap anyway, but on livestream.

You rolled your eyes.

And then agreed anyway.

And so, the charade began.

His Twitter statement was up shortly, telling the people that you’d been dating for a couple of weeks and weren’t planning to tell anybody yet until a certain someone spilled their guts live, and the fact Dream was dating someone, let alone another popular streamer, took the internet by storm. You expected hate, and you got quite a bit of that, but the people that had shipped the two of you before were certainly more than delighted and a lot of Clay’s fans were supportive.

Now, both of you had excuses to do chill streams together and just hang out and you took the opportunity and ran with it.

You’d sit and play Geoguessr or just try and speedrun Minecraft a bunch of times for hours on end, doing stupid bits and things you’d be doing offline anyways, with a little more flirting than usual, because that’s what made it interesting.

“Oh this is France, for sure.” you claimed one night, two or three weeks after the secret was officially out, chewing on the fries you bought for this specific occasion, streaming on his alt to a few thousand people.

“You think so? It could be Belgium, too.” he responded, humming in thought as he looked around.

“I know so.” you responded.

“How?”

“I just do. Gamer intuition, babe.” you said, and he wheezed at your response, repeating the words gamer intuition under his breath.

“No, seriously. It is France, I know it is, I’ve seen so many pictures of that place I know it like the back of my hand now. That’s Lyon, or something.” you continued, plopping another french fry into your mouth.

“You have? Why do you know so much about France, that’s so random.” he responded, opening the map and pointing to France, although he keeps looking around, unsure of his decision.

“I dunno, I like it there. I wish I could move there.” you replied.

“Why, though?”

“It’s pretty and heavily romanticised! Just like me!” you joked and he laughed, before letting you continue. “I dunno, it’s the city of love. Be a little romantic.”

“The… the city of love is whatever city the two of us are in.” he said, and it took a few seconds for you to process the joke before letting out a fake disappointed sigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dating someone as corny as you.”

At that, he bursts into wheezes, and you follow along, enjoying the sound of his laughter coursing through your headphones more than you used to a few weeks back. It feels nice, feels right, acting like this. You like calling him your boyfriend more than you think you should.

A few weeks go by, and it feels all too natural. It feels too natural, talking to him first thing in the morning when you’ve barely even had your coffee, calling him pet names, throwing sweet words at each other publicly like they mean nothing. It feels all too natural, and nice, and all too right, and you don’t even notice when the two of you cross the line between public and private, and you’re stuck making stupid jokes about making out when you first see each other when there’s nobody to witness them except the walls of your rooms, but you don’t like thinking about that, because you know it’ll bring nothing but confusion. The current this that the two of you have is perfect to you, perfectly lighthearted and funny and fun, and you intend on keeping it that way, refusing to think about it in any way past jokes.

That is, until you can’t anymore.

It’s late, again, and you’re staring at his contact name on your phone screen, lazily lying on the bed. It reminds you of a night from roughly 3 months ago, when your whole friendship seemed to change in the few seconds it took you to process what he’d asked of you, and it feels weird, but nice.

“My mom really likes you, you know?” Clay breaks the quiet that you’ve learned to appreciate in his presence, and you exhale through your nose, the noise just short of a chuckle.

“Yeah?” You laugh, and he does as well.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms. “She thinks you’re a great girlfriend. Apparently I seem brighter ever since we got together.”

You laugh again. “I am a great girlfriend, to be fair. She’s totally right.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that. If you’re as good of a girlfriend as you pretend to be, though, then you’re amazing.” He says, and words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Yeah? You wanna find out?” The flirty nature is nothing strange to the two of you, but this time it feels kinda different, it feels like you’re stepping into dangerous territory that there’s no coming back from. You feel like you’ve ruined everything, for some reason.

He laughs, like normal, though. He laughs like nothing happened at all, and you’re so, so grateful for that.

“Sure, let’s do it. You’re about to unpack the full Clay boyfriend experience.” He snickers and you laugh as well.

“That means I just unlock the dick as well as the personality.” you respond, quick as always, and the wheeze that escapes him is so loud that it makes you laugh too.

“...Unlock the dick…” he repeats through another wheeze and you nod, laughing.

“Yeah! I mean I’m literally experiencing the boyfriend experience without actually having a boyfriend, it’s fuckin’ great.” you say and he hums.

“You could have one, though.”

The implications are crazy, his words are crazy, he’s crazy and everything that he could mean and couldn’t mean by that is driving you crazy too, brain faltering and heart seeming way too big for your chest to contain it. It’s silent.

“I could, I guess.”

You choose to say, and he switches the topic naturally, like he never said anything.

Things are never the same again.

It’s not in a bad way. Sure, it is kind of a bad way for the feelings you’re trying to push down inside you, a bad way for hot nights when the unbearable heat forces you to stay up even when you don’t want to and you have no choice but to think about why you feel the way you feel as you melt into the burning sheets below you, a bad way for when he jokes about finding somebody else and you feel your stomach churning. A bad way for realising that this fake dating thing is really getting to you, but not a bad way in general.

Maybe it’s in a good way. Maybe the underlying implications whenever he makes jokes about making the relationship real are good, maybe the way he calls you in the middle of the night when he’s anxious and freaking out and defends himself by saying: “You’re my girlfriend, you’re always there for me, I just figured I could call you.” and you end up wondering if it’s possible to say jokes in such a vulnerable state or if he’s serious is good, maybe the way it’s been a few months and he won’t tell his own best friends that it was a joke the whole time is good, maybe the way you confronted him about it and he said he likes having you as his girlfriend is good.

Maybe the way the two of you are always walking the line between joking and being serious, between being friends and something more, between lies and pranks and emotional investment and fear of committing, and the way you’re always trying to push the other off, is good.

The fans love it. The fanart is incredible (serves especially well for those hot nights when you can’t fall asleep and you scroll, watching yourself fall in love with Clay in every universe, tales told by people who observe your story and find it worthy enough to retell in their own words, to take the love you pretend to have and turn it into something real), people love to gush over the compliments he sprinkles in at random times during conversation and the general flirty dynamic is loved by many, pulling in more views and attraction for you.

And you suppose that’s good too, but at some point, the good warps into bad, bad warps into terrible, and you wonder if this is all even worth the sleepless nights, wondering if he feels the same way.

Those thoughts haunt you more and more often every day. When you wake up, and text him first thing in the morning, your brain acknowledges that the camera is off - nobody’s around, people aren’t listening, so why are you still playing the role of a girlfriend and starting up a conversation with him when you haven’t even brushed your teeth properly? When you’re editing in the middle of the day and he calls to keep you company, making more stupid boyfriend jokes, your stomach flips in a weird way that makes you hate him, hate the way he can joke about these things so freely, like it doesn’t hurt him. Like it doesn’t affect him like it affects you.

But, as much as you wish you could hate him, you couldn’t bring yourself to, and that was the worst part. Because, in reality, whenever he laughed you’d smile without realising you did, whenever anything exciting happened to you he was the first one you went to, whenever you wanted to laugh or cry or sit in silence for hours or complain you always went to him, the one person who you know would listen. In reality, whenever he made a joke about giving up on the fake dating and making it real, you wished so bad that he was serious this time, that this was what it took and he’d crack and all of your suffering would end.

It eventually happens.

It’s a pretty chilly morning, birds chirp outside and the sun that slowly rises is covering the kitchen floor in a golden hue as you pour milk into your cereal with one hand and hold your phone in the other, letting Clay ramble about whatever it was this time, when he brought it up.

“So, when do you wanna come down to Florida again?” he asks casually, and you almost drop the gallon of milk in your hand.

“What?”

“I said, when are you coming down to Florida again? Last time you came was pretty fun.” he says, and an empty silence follows. There’s an unsaid “I miss you” that you don’t hear, and he’s too afraid of saying it.

“Florida wasn’t exactly on my schedule this month, man.” you say, placing your phone on the counter for a second. Clay sure knew how to surprise a person.

“Well put it down, then.” he jokes, and you hum.

“What, you got another wedding coming up?” you giggle and he groans - you never really stopped making fun of him for that wedding.

“No, I don’t. Can’t a man just miss seeing his beloved girlfriend?” It’s unbelievable how quickly dread can wash over you as soon as he makes one of those jokes. You were convinced the mix of anxiety and butterflies that appears in your stomach was gonna kill you sometime soon.

“He can, he’s just being weirdly insistent.” you argue nonetheless. “But sure, I’ll consider it.”

You do more than consider it - in a few weeks, you’re back at the airport, and falling into his arms has never given you such an adrenaline rush in your whole life. Something about having him wrapped around you, close to you, the warmth of his body radiating into yours sent you spiraling, head clouded with nothing but love and the fact that you wish you could stay there forever. You wished you could press pause and cherish the moment, let yourself bask in that feeling of pure love, pure adoration that you helplessly drowned in. But you couldn’t, and you left his arms feeling oddly empty.

Hiding the fact that you were unapologetically head over heels for him proved to be a hundred times more difficult when you were right there, next to him, talking to him, when you could just kiss him any second, feel his lips on yours and nobody would stop you - the opportunity was right there, looming over you, the devil on your shoulder taunting you, telling you to do it.

You got to wake up in the same house as him, watch his hair stick out in different directions and his raspy morning voice as he complained about the smell of your coffee, watch his eyes glint whenever he talked about something he liked and observe as he carried around Patches like a little baby. You got to experience every bit of domestic without the consequences of committing, and you wondered just how far this would go. For how much longer would the two of you blatantly ignore the fact that you were a couple that slapped the title “fake” on it because you were cowards who refused to admit what this truly was.

Not for long, apparently, because you grew tired, and decided to put an end to everything on one random Thursday night - and if he hated you forever for it, then so be it.

You were sitting on his couch, watching a random movie together, drowning in one of his Dream hoodies while you chewed the popcorn he made. It was dark outside, just past midnight, and you could see the branches of a tree swaying calmly through one of the nearby windows - the silence while he scrolled through his phone lazily was comforting too, everything was lazy and serene and it would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t for the constant anxiety that gripped you by the throat whenever you were in his close proximity, the nervousness that killed you, the upset feeling of wanting to cuddle up with him but knowing you can’t because you guys are just friends, and nothing more.

The couple on the screen kiss while a violin plays in the background - how fitting. Maybe that’s what pushes you to the edge, or maybe you were just that sick and tired.

You were exhausted, beyond exhausted. Your eyes were tired, the anxiety was morphing into annoyance and anger and you were ready to give up on it all. If this ended the friendship, at least you two had a good run. Your heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know, you still owe me a favor in return for pretending to be your girlfriend.” you say, and you sound gone, zoned out, more than you wish you were. You hear his phone turn off with a click.

“Yeah? What do you want?” Clay asks, and you blankly stare at the TV for a few seconds before turning to face him, eyes burning.

“Kiss me.”

It’s silent. The characters on screen are arguing. You hear the wind through one of his open windows.

“What?” he asks, voice cracking, and his expression falls. You’ve fucked it. Oh well.

“I want you to kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me like someone’s watching and you wanna make it believable.” you say, eyes boring into his, your words having nowhere near as much of an effect on yourself as they do on him. Your eyes sting like they’re being lit on fire, and your throat is sort of closing up, but it’s fine. “Let me have this before I go, because once I leave, I don’t wanna do this anymore, Clay. I can’t pretend like I don’t want you to introduce me as your girlfriend and fully mean it. I can’t lie to your face anymore.”

Silence. Deafening silence, once again.

“I love you.” he blurts out, and you don’t even register it at first. “I don’t want this shit to be fake either. God, I really don’t. It hasn’t been fake for a while now, at least not on my part. I’m sorry, it’s just- it was easier to keep this bit going than it was to actually admit that I’m… into you.”

And once again, the room falls into silence, much like it always does whenever the two of you share moments like these.

And then, you burst into laughter.

“So… so you mean to tell me, that both of us have liked each other this whooooole fucking time, and just refused to admit it and ‘pretended to date’ instead?” you burst into giggles, and he looks sort of hesitant to laugh, but he does anyway.

“I mean… yeah? I was waiting for you to call me out for doing all that when nobody was watching! Why did you never call me out?! Don’t blame me, I made it so damn obvious that I wanted you!” he protests, and you almost can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Excuse me? You should’ve just fucking told me instead of making a million and one jokes about how I’m your girlfriend! We’re not in middle school, Clay!” you argue.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d catch on and talk to me about it at some point! You never called me out for anything!”

“So what, I’m supposed to just read your mind now? You’re fucking unbelievable.” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest and turning away in annoyance. As soon as a warm hand lands on your shoulder, though, the annoyance melts like wax under fire, leaving nothing behind.

“I still haven’t returned that favor, you know?” he whispers in your ear, breath fanning your neck, closer than he should be. The hairs on your neck stand up as you turn back to Clay, who wore a mischievous grin and a glint in his eyes that suggested no good.

You suppose bad can be good, sometimes.

As his lips press onto yours, that theory is proven true, because he sends a flicker of fire burning down your spine, spreading into your limbs, making your fingertips electric as you pulled him in closer, hand snaking up to grip at his hair - the everlasting grin against your own proves, once again, to be no good as his hands slip under your hoodie and grip your sides, but you think you enjoy this sort of bad.

They sneak up further, and you hear him chuckle into the kiss as your insides melt at his touch. The two of you silently agree that maybe he should ask for favors more often.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken angst #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken x y/n

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wickedghastly · 4 years ago

Note

Where can I find info on princess nokia blackfishing? I thought she was Afro latina, im not saying she isn't blackfishing I just want to find more info on it

I have no idea how long ago you sent this but:

Literally if you just look at images of her you can physically see her morphing herself over the years into looking Black.

I had to research/come to the conclusions and look for this all myself. Some keywords that might help is that she used to go by themermaidgirl and wavyspice with the word tumblr on google (those were the names she went by before she switched to princess nokia.)

On her Blackfishing:

I basically found out through google after seeing what she looked like in her infamous “so juicy so fertile” Vogue video that she Blackfishes because I noticed she obviously uses tanner (Face lighter than body with different tones). I started googling her old pictures and social media names and...yeah here we are.

She deadass darkens her skin artificially, wears fake Afro wigs, and gets lip injections to make herself look Black, and is lying about being AfroPuerto Rican, she’s been lying about being Indigenous as well.

How you go from this:

To this:

Her own ex-friends have said she’s not Black and called her out for it. Actual Taino Indigenous people have repeatedly called her out for lying about being Taino.

If you look at pictures shes posted of her family literally none of them are Black. They’re more than likely white or majority white/mestize. None of them in Puerto Rico would be considered Black. None of them. Like my mother’s family is literally all very much white Puertoricans who come from white European colonialists in PR, and that side of my family look JUST LIKE the people in these pictures. She’s not ambigious mixed Black, she’s straight up Blackfishing and pretending to be Black.

She is literally mestiza/white Latina cosplaying Afro-Indigenous Latinidad. Like straight up fucking cosplaying being mixed and cosplaying being spiritual/in Afroreligions.

Like who tf sits there for instagram smoking cigars with a golden headwrap showing the viewers a Yemaya oracle card like she’s really doing something except for people who are using ATRs and shit for social media clout liiikkeeee.......She can smoke all the cigars she wants, that’s not gonna make her AfroPuertorican or Afrotaino for shit. It’s fucking embarassing.

I swear the reason she’s always going on about being mixed Afro-Indigenous is because in Latino culture, including PR culture, there’s this incorrect idea that we’re all European/African/Indigenous, therefore any Latino can claim Afrolatinidad. Obviously that’s not true. But I’ve even heard this stupid shit in progressive/activist circles.

And with ATR/ADRs and Brujeria becoming more visible and popular in recent years, why wouldn’t she jump on it to capitalize off the craze, considering that’s what made her popular? So I deadass wouldn’t be surprised if this is why she tries saying she’s Black when clearly neither she nor either sides of her family are any sort of Black Puertorican. But she’s been called out for this shit so many times, nobody can say she’s just ignorant, at this point she’s been telling people straight up lies.

She wears Afro styled wigs and then lies about it being her real hair. And people have apparently called her out before but she was adamant that its her real hair. You can tell that its not her real hair, and that her actual texture is wavy, not curly.

Those are all wigs. All 3 of them in the images. You can literally tell they’re wigs. Esp in the middle/second pic, look at those roots. You can see the braids underneath and how the curls aren’t actually connecting to her scalp. Bc those are fucking wigs. Even in the bruja video, she was wearing a fucking wig.

Why do you think she goes from a light tan, to a much darker warm almost orange shade, to a neutral medium shade, back to a super dark but more olive/green toned shade? Because that’s not what her actual color is.

Have you noticed how in a lot of photos of her, her skin is sort of patchy with random spots, or her face is super pale without makeup compared to a much darker body, her body most times being a much darker color than her hands? Why sometimes her nails look dirty?

It’s literally because she uses artificial tanners/spray tan on her skin. She’s always a different shade because it goes between being fresh and faded or she switches up the brands/colors/products she’s using.

Like look at her fucking hand compared to her face (and check out the injections) like wow:

She gets mad fucking CCs of injections into her lips to make them look fuller than they actually are. And she’s been getting it done for ages. In recent moments she’s been doing.......alot.

She’s 100% A Blackfisher like it’s fucking crazy because I didnt know that wasnt what she naturally looked like. honest to god this had me so fucked up and I’m still so fucking mad over this. I had heard people repeatedly saying she wasn’t Black and figured it out through just searching up on google. She’s absolutely fucking wild for profitting off of the idea that she’s AfropuertoRican and acting like shes supposed to be some sort of representation for us when she’s been fucking lyinggggg. Faux-spiritual and faux-Black as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucckkk and making money off of it.

I even saw that she apparently tried to argue with a visibly Black woman who was calling her out, that the Black woman’s skin looked fake and orange and was probably a tan on twitter. Like. GIRL GET AWAY FROM THE MIRROR BECAUSE....

She’s fucking WILD.

#i was sooooo mad/sad when i found out #and put two and two together #like deadass fuck her #wg.personal

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soulmate-game · 3 years ago

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Harley’s Plea for Help: Chapter 2

Chapter 1

“How long do you think it’s gonna take before she decides to sneak out?” Nightwing asked over his comms, lazily leaning against the balcony railing in front of him with his head resting on one hand.

“Dude, I started sneaking out almost twenty minutes ago,” a girl’s voice made Nightwing squeak and turn around, to reveal a teenage girl leaning against the door that led to the balcony he was on. “I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by doing unnecessarily showy gymnastics down from my hotel room’s balcony, no matter how much fun that would be, so I just snuck out one of the hotel’s back exits. Then I looked up to admire the moon and saw you here, staking out what is clearly my suite, and decided to come pay you a visit.”

“How long have you been there? And how did you even get behind me? I hope you didn’t break and enter, that’s an actual lived-in apartment behind us right now,” Nightwing asked, turning around to analyze the daughter of Harley Quinn for the first time in person.

She looked just like in her pictures, of course. Jet black hair like her father’s, except it seemed to have a bluish shine in the light. And her eyes were definitely Harley’s— thank goodness for that —vibrant blue and clearly analyzing him with the same amount of intensity as his did her. He had to bite back a chuckle. In a turn of complete irony, she really did look like a Wayne kid. Fit all of Bruce’s usual criteria to be adopted. But she was tiny, even smaller than Harley’s lithe form. He, Bruce, and Tim were of the hypothesis that the exposure both her parents had to Ace Chemical’s vats of acid likely had an effect on her DNA that stunted her growth. Perhaps there were other effects that they wouldn’t be able to figure out until they got to know her better, too, though it was clear that her skin was a likely one. It wasn’t unnaturally pale like her parent’s after their acid dips but it was paler than normal for sure, just a shade or two shy of being paper white.

And he could see, now, what Harley meant when she referred to Marinette as a powerhouse. It wasn’t very noticeable in pictures, but up close Dick could see the carefully honed muscle of an acrobat curling over her otherwise slim build. Combined with the knowledge that Marinette had been taught at least some serious self defense from a young age, he could see how such a tiny package could be a remarkable threat when necessary.

Marinette grimaced as the other Batfam, who were all nearby staking out her room from different angles, dropped onto the large balcony with them.

“Uh, well. I didn’t break and enter, I rather not get off to a criminal-ly start on my first night in Gotham, you know? But I realized that even though I was able to figure out the exact room you were staking me out from, I realized as soon as I got into the first floor of the building that I had no idea how to actually get to you. So I just climbed the stairs all the way to the roof and scaled my way down to this balcony, and pretended I’ve been here for a while when really I was barely able to hear you ask when I was gonna sneak out. I’m still out of breath, actually,” she put a hand on her chest and sure enough her breathing was still slightly fast. But not enough to be worrying or even all that noticeable. Yet another piece of evidence to show that she was a very active individual and had resistance built up to physical activity.

“Yup,” Robin groused grumpily, crossing his arms. “With all that rambling, you couldn’t be anyone else’s child but Quinzel’s.”

Marinette’s face immediately flushed pink all the way to her ears. “I’m sorry! I’ve been trying so hard to quit that habit, too!” She grumbled a bit to herself, putting her face in her hands. They all chuckled at the display. Red Hood ambled over, draping his arm over her shoulders (he nearly had to bend in half to do it, the height difference was that bad).

“As adorable as your freak out is, why’d you even come up here anyway? There’s no way you’d scale down a ten-story building just to say hello.”

She let out a heavy sigh at that, slowly peeling her face out of her hands. “Yeah, I recognized you guys right away. And honestly, as much as Momma Harley would be super proud of me for managing to give an entire group of vigilantes the slip, she’d also ground me for life if she found out that I saw you guys and still snuck away even though she probably swallowed her pride and asked you guys to babysit me, right? Self preservation. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually have some.”

“Wait,” Red Robin held up a hand, brows clearly furrowed under his cowl. “You expected her to ask for our help?”

“Well,” she made a so-so motion with her hand. “I didn’t think of it beforehand, but it all clicked once I saw Nightwing. I know how much my mom is worried about me, especially since you-know-who broke out a few days ago. She is more than worried enough to ask you guys for help. Even if she does complain about you guys, a lot actually, she also has made it clear that she trusts you guys with the stuff that actually matters.

“‘You know who’?” Batman repeated, arms crossed. If Marinette squinted, she thought there might have been a grin on his lips. “Is that how you always refer to him?”

“What else am I gonna call him?” she asked, face going deadpan. “Sperm donor? Source of a large amount of my self doubt and depreciation? The prime reason I haven’t been able to see my mom in person more often over the years? Oh, I know! How about I just always refer to him as ‘that bastard I wanna punch,’? That sounds good!” she rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Only one person in this world has the right to be considered my father in any capacity, and it sure as hell isn’t him. Genetics notwithstanding.”

Red Hood straight up guffawed at that, landing several rough pats on her back that made the girl stumble a bit. “Yep, I like this one! But as fun as it would be to see you give that jackass a mean left hook, it’s better if he never finds out who you are or knows that you’re here,” the vigilante’s voice got dark and serious very quickly. “He doesn’t forget people he finds interesting easily, and if he ever finds out about the connection you have to him, he’ll be a constant threat in your life.”

“I know,” Marinette agreed with a nod. “And if this conversation was happening two years ago, I’d say that my mom’s concerns aren’t unfounded. That I am too easily emotionally compromised and despite my deep seated issues and hatred for that man, I couldn’t guarantee he would be unable to get to me.”

Batman straightened up, as did all of his sons around him. None of them had missed the ‘if’ there. Batman’s voice went from charmingly deep to it’s usual gruff grumble. “What changed in two years?”

They all watched as Marinette gulped, taking a deep breath as she stalled for time, looking out at the view on the balcony before seeming to steel herself and return her gaze to Batman’s. When she did, it was suddenly full of iron will.

“I didn’t lie when I told Mom that I came to visit her— but that isn’t the whole truth, either. If I just wanted to visit her in Gotham, I would have waited until I was eighteen like we agreed. But I can’t wait, Paris can’t keep going on like this. I entered that contest because it was the fastest way to see you. I didn’t know if I would win, but… I had to take the chance. There was no way I’d be able to get to Gotham behind my mom’s back otherwise.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin hissed, stepping up to his father’s side. “Paris has been silent. If anything were happening, we would have heard about it by now.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Marinette corrected, never losing that ironclad look in her eyes. “Because a combination of magic and politics is keeping it quiet. No news about Paris’ situation is able to leave the city limits. Magic makes any non-native who leaves Paris think that everything they experienced was just a crazy dream. Natives won’t forget, but politics has all of us under very strict NDAs if we leave city boundaries, and all of our local news and social media is blocked from being accessed by anyone outside the city. But, I figured a little breaking of the rules wouldn’t exactly put a stain on my family’s reputation or anything, so,” she dug in her pocket and pulled out a thumb drive, holding it up for all of them to see. She swallowed again, but never stopped her eye contact with Batman. She held out the thumb drive.

“I came to Gotham to ask for your help. This sped things up, I didn’t expect to see you on my first night here, but two years in Hawkmoth’s Paris has really taught me how to roll with the punches. This,” she shook the thumb drive. “Holds videos of every fight since HawkMoth first showed up. It has all the information I’ve gathered over two years, tracks his movements and lists all his targets and— everything. But I’m not a detective, I’m a designer. I make clothes, I spar on the weekends, I am not good at getting evidence to prove that someone is a magic-abusing villain holding an entire city hostage.”

“We’re gonna need some details, Little Q,” Red Hood finally removes his arm from around her shoulders, instead crossing his arms and looking down at her sternly. “If your city has a villain holding it hostage, is anyone fighting him? And if you do have someone fighting him, why don’t you need our help, or why didn’t they call the Justice League? The JLE should be in Paris, right?”

Marinette snorted, face scrunching up in obvious distaste. “I’ll have to answer those a little out of order. First; the JLE was kicked out of Paris. They moved their headquarters to Italy about five years ago, I’m just surprised they apparently kept that secret from you,” she gestured to all of them, who indeed seemed very caught off guard by that tidbit. But Marinette just sighed and continued. “Though that’s a good thing, actually. We do have heroes, it started out as just a pair but it’s grown into a small team out of necessity. They didn’t call the Justice League because the last thing we need is any powered heroes coming in and making it worse— your league doesn’t have the best reputation for letting newer heroes take the lead even on their home turf, you know,” she pointed out, which made Batman shift a bit guiltily. He knew the JL was often a bit… heavy handed in their methods.

“What makes the situation so bad that you don’t want to bring experienced heroes into it?” Red Robin cut in, sounding as if the whole situation was a puzzle he was determined to sort out. Which, really, was exactly what Marinette had been counting on. She shot him a finger gun, grinning.

“That’s exactly the point! Hawkmoth uses a magical artifact, like I said— but this artifact can brainwash anybody who experiences even the slightest negative emotion. Sadness, anger, fear— anything negative. And it gives them powers, but puts them largely under his influence,” her expression twisted again, this time into a wry little grimace. “I guess you can say that my momma’s psychiatry background has secretly come in handy a lot over these past two years. And Hawkmoth is exactly why I try to tell Momma Harley to stop visiting me— I have worked my butt off to keep her from finding out about his attacks or getting Akumatized. Every time she shows up it gives me a heart attack!”

“Akumatized?”

Marinette waved a hand dismissively. “It’s the term used for when someone is turned into a super powered villain because of HawkMoth. The brainwashing— really it’s more similar to a straight up corruption. The person usually lacks their usual moral compass, and just seeks to soothe whatever set off their negative emotion in the first place. Usually, that means they seek a bloody revenge. And if someone who already has extensive training or extremely strong powers gets Akumatized, guess what?” She made jazz hands even though her face was deadpan. “Extra powers, or amplified ones, for the metas or superheroes who are Akumatized. And imagine what someone with, say, Batman’s level of experience could do if he had powers and no moral compass,” the silence that followed her words was deafening. She just nodded, knowing she had gotten her point across. “I’ve been working my butt off to stay positive, because if I’m Akumatized…” her shoulders fell, and she had to swallow a lump in her throat. “... I have no idea what I’d turn into, but if you take into consideration both my training and my family history… it’s really best if we never find out what kind of magic-powered supervillain I’d make.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Nightwing said after another long moment of silence for that to all sink in. He gestured at her with an open palm. “You’ve been dealing with a terrorist for two years who targets emotional vulnerability, you apparently have never been corrupted by this magic at least to present day, but your mother still worries about you being very emotionally fragile. And your heroes are not detectives, which is clearly what you need or you wouldn’t have asked us for our help.”

Marinette nodded. “I used to be very impressionable. At the start of all this, I was a huge people-pleaser. I got attached to new people in a matter of minutes. My mom always said I reminded her too much of herself— but two years of fighting off a guy trying to get into my head—“

“Wait,” Batman nearly barked, taking a step forward. “He’s been targeting you? You specifically?”

Marinette nodded grimly, mouth a straight line. “Not from the beginning, but this past year it’s been painfully obvious. He might be able to sense the strength of people’s emotions, and unfortunately I don’t exactly experience my emotions very… gently. All of my emotions tend to the much more intense side of the spectrum. If that’s true, then he might know that any negative emotion I feel will make an extremely strong Akuma. Either that, or he’s going by process of elimination. All of my friends, except for one, have been Akumatized already. So has my Papan and my grandmother. But it’s obvious when he’s targeting someone, I’ve felt him try to override my will on several occasions. But I can’t just repress all of my negative emotions forever, so consider us working against the clock right now. That thumb drive has all the details you need about our heroes, how exactly Hawkmoth’s powers work, and so on.”

“Do your heroes know you’re asking for our help?” Red Robin asked, gaze burning a figurative hole through Marinette’s face. “Better yet, if this drive has as much information as you say it does, how did you get it?”

Marinette handed the drive over to Batman, who finally took it and tucked it in his belt as she answered.

“Momma Harley might have a lot to say about your detective skills, but you are all still strangers to me. So consider this a test of your abilities— I expect that you will all go to extreme lengths to verify all of the information I gave you anyway. After all, I’m still the daughter of your most hated enemy. Right?” She met each of their gazes, one by one, with a challenging one of her own. “You’ll just have to figure out my connection to the heroes on your own. And how I got the information, too. It shouldn’t be too hard for the so-called world’s greatest detectives. And maybe this can double as a trust exercise. I fully expect you guys to scour through every inch of my past, and dig up everything you can on me. I encourage you to try to find everything you can, so that hopefully you can decide to trust me on your own once you have all the details laid out in front of you. By the way, for your own sanity? I’d start with reading about all of our heroes’ powers and abilities before you watch any footage of past attacks.”

Red hood rocked back on his heels, trading glances with the other vigilantes before they all shared a nod. Apparently having decided their course of action, Red Hood leaned down and hoisted Marinette up into a princess carry. All traces of her previous iron will melted away in favor of the high pitched squeal of surprise she gave, and once more she became an overly flustered teenager.

“Alright, little cutie. Let’s get you to your mom’s place before she and her crazy plant lady fiancé come hunting us down.”

“I can walk! I can freerun on my own! Mon dieu please let me down! Eeeeek!” She squealed again as Robin slapped a domino mask over her eyes and Red Hood wasted no time jumping over the balcony railing with her still in his arms. The fact that they were lowered down by a wire wrapped around Hood’s waist didn’t seem to take away any of the fright that came with a sudden drop over an eighth-story balcony.

Part 1

@emotionalsupportginger @alysrose-starchild @emistar0 @kibastray @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @alyssadeliv @blackroserelina @blackstarlight-co @readingalldaysleepingallnight @maanae @aespades @jaybird-and-co @fleursroses @probably-a-hologram @misterpianoman (didn’t work sorry)

#dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat #bio!dad au #Bio!mom Harley Quinn #Bio!Dad joker #mlb x dc #ml x dc #Harley’s Plea for Help #platonic brucinette #platonic jasonette #platonic Harley Quinn x Marinette

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sapphicwhxre · 4 years ago

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books and cleverness

♥︎ pairing: hermione granger x reader x pansy parkinson

♥︎ summary: hermione’s been working herself to death lately, so you and pansy distract her. (fem!reader, house neutral)

♥︎ requested: yes | no

♥︎ warnings: hickies, f. oral, tit stuff, food, stress, threesome

♥︎ a/n: this is full on smut but a good part of it is fluff and it’s highkey giving me poly vibes ─ i love it 🥺

just another book, hermione had told herself. better to be over-prepared than not prepared enough for o.w.l.s. what would she do if she only got Acceptables? or merlin forbid, a Poor. the thought of a Dreadful was too much to even consider.

since then, three hours had passed and hermione was still in her prefect room. the overthinking had turned one more book to another pile from the library. eyebrows furrowed, hermione glanced up at a knock on her door. “yes?” she called out, wondering who’d be coming over this late.

“open up!” she recognised your voice, calling out to her. of course, it was you. the only one of hermione’s friends who felt she overworked herself and tried to stop it. you’d probably noticed she skipped dinner and come to distract relax her a bit. “i practically had to drag pansy here, but we brought sandwiches, strawberries, and eclairs.”

hermione considered telling you to go away, that she was busy. but she was exhausted and, honestly? there was no one who made her feel better than you and pansy ─ even if pansy pretended she didn’t care or that she only hung around hermione because of you. there was a special bond between all of you and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. “it’s unlocked, come in.”

looking as effortless yet breathtaking as ever, you and pansy walked into the room. like a weight taken off of her back, the air became instantly lighter for hermione. “gods granger,” pansy did a one-over on her bed, plopping herself across from hermione. “studying for some kind of nerd-lympics?” you let out a giggle, shoving at pansy for her comment.

“have you taken any breaks?” you asked, much more tenderly. the sigh that left her told you that she hadn’t. you offered her one of the strawberries you were snacking on, but she refused. pansy’s gaze turned more sympathetic and she took a hand to hermione’s hair, twirling a lock soothingly. “well now we’re here, so you can.”

immediately shaking her head, hermione pulled the book she’d been studying back to her lap. “i can’t, sorry,” she sighed. “there’s so much i need to learn that could be on the o.w.l.s and i─ oh,” your eyes widened and then your small smile did. hermione had been completely cut off by pansy’s lips leaving open-mouthed kisses on her neck. “what are ─ what are you... oh.”

she trailed off before finishing twice and then gave up, moaning again when pansy started to suck at her skin, encouraged by hermione's response. “come on, y/n,” pansy beckoned you over, her voice on hermione's skin making her visibly shudder. “i think miss books and cleverness needs a distraction from her studies, don’t you agree?”

“absolutely, pans,” you agreed, settling yourself beside the two of them. thighs clenching, you and pansy exchanged a knowing glance. “you want us to distract you ‘mione? take away your stress?” as soon as hermione nodded, pansy kicked her thick pile of books off of the bed (clearly enjoying getting to do so).

“lay down,” pansy commanded her. without any resistance, she obeyed, rose-cheeked. you pushed her hair out of her face, admiring the features that were filled with nervous excitement. the two of you hovered over the shyer girl, eagerly awaiting to be corrupted by you. this was easily the best distraction she’d ever had, and hermione despised being distracted from her work. “there you go... so much prettier when you're relaxed.”

instead of taking offense like she normally would, hermione gleamed at the praise. in this moment, she belonged to no one but y/n l/n and pansy parkinson. she watched you remove your top slowly, teasingly. every inch of skin you revealed pushed o.w.l.s farther away from her mind. “see something you like, ‘mione?” she nodded, pout eager. “tell me then, and it's yours.”

“i wanna see what’s under that bra of yours,” hermione worked up the courage to say. dark eyelashes batted up at you as she looked at you with her brown eyes. she fell back into her bliss when pansy’s fingers hooked on her shorts, pulling them down her legs just as slowly as you’d pulled your top over your head and discarding her shirt as well. “please.”

hermione’s plea was for the both of you and you complied. “of course, ‘mione,” you kissed her flushed cheek softly, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra. your breasts fell out for her to see and pansy had already discarded of her panties, giving her just what she wanted. “we’re here to make our poor pretty girl feel good, aren't we?”

a moan dripped off of hermione’s tongue when pansy touched her. pansy dragged her fingers over and through hermione’s pussy, wanting to hear the pretty noises a few more times before making her scream with pleasure. kissing hermione while pansy made her tremble, the strawberry juice from earlier mixed with the taste of the kiss. “pansy,” you gasped, given an idea from the moment. “get the strawberries we brought hermione.”

hermione looked like she was in heaven, muscles finally relaxing and eyes fluttering shut contently. pansy took the sliced strawberries from the container you’d snuck out of the great hall and placed the cold fruit on hermione’s warm skin. the red treat trailed along her thighs and up her stomach, onto her hard nipples. “take a picture with ‘mione’s muggle camera.” pansy groaned. you went through her bedside drawer, finding it and snapping a photo of what you knew pansy wanted. “you look too amazing to not capture.”

the polaroid came out perfect, making hermione look like an angel. without warning, pansy sucked a strawberry slice off of hermione’s thigh, leaving behind a wet pink mixture of fruity juice, saliva, and a purple mark. she worked her way up, biting the fruit off of the skin and even biting hermione playfully a few times.

you did the same on her chest, circling her buds and eating the treat off of her skin. her moans filled the room and your ears. coming face to face with pansy once you reached her stomach, she gave you a toothy grin and pressed her lips to yours. she gripped hermione’s shaking leg for support and danced her tongue around yours. through her bra, you squeezed her tits harshly, making her moan into your mouth.

finally disconnecting ─ and slightly breathless ─ you watched as pansy’s face buried between hermione’s legs. you grabbed a handful of her hair and guided her movements, giving hermione a sight and feeling to moan louder about. “c─c’mere, please,” hermione requested. when you let go of pansy’s hair, she kept at it, still eliciting noisy moans from hermione.

your tits were grabbed as soon as you laid down next to her, gently. traveling the skin, getting to know the feeling of you in your hands, hermione made your head fall back in pleasure. she pinched at your nipples, rolling them in her fingers until they hurt from the stimulation. “oh hermione,” you moaned. her hands pulled you closer and your thigh rested on pansy’s shoulder while she ate our hermione.

her lips wrapped around your nipple, fingers still playing skillfully with the other. she sucked eagerly, feeling pride from the small moans you were giving her. “good girl,” you whispered, hand running through her curls. with ease, hermione switched to the other one, directing her sloppy attention there. the moans vibrating against you grew harsher and she let you out of her mouth with a pop. eyes glossy and lips quivering from the noises she was making, you knew she was close to coming.

“pansy, our girl’s gonna cum all over your mouth,” you informed her, aching to see it happen. pansy took her mouth away from hermione's cunt, which left her whimpering shamelessly. leaning her head into the crook of hermione’s neck, she whispered to her directly but intended loud enough for the both of you to hear.

“y/n’s gonna finish you off while i hold you,” pansy told her, stroking her hair. not missing a beat, you took pansy’s spot and make use of your tongue on hermione's pussy. “salazar, doesn’t y/n look so stunning down there? letting you make all these pretty sounds? your cunt’s going to look so hot covered in cum and so is y/n's pretty face.”

the edge for hermione was when your tongue slipped into her entrance, dipping roughly into her. riding out her orgasm on your mouth, cum flooded your lips, white liquid glistening on them. “she tastes so good, pansy,” you hummed. “come taste.” pansy enveloped your lips once more, swiping the juice off of them and tilting her head to get a deeper taste of you.

“thank you,” hermione sighed, cuddled into your sides when she was cleaned up. it took a few minutes but she’d regained her ability to think clearly again after being ravaged by you two. “for distracting me, i mean. i haven’t felt anything but stress in ages.”

“what’re friends for?” you answered, overjoyed that you relieved some of her stress. judging by the smirk on her face, pansy was too ─ although, she was most likely feeling more pride in it. yawning, hermione sat up.

“to give me that sandwich i was told you brought me?” she smiled sweetly. the look pansy have you told you that you’d have to be the one to get up and grab it. “you two really wore me out.” standing up to get her the food she well deserved, you scoffed and figured you’d make her blush one more time tonight.

“i’ll only get it because you were such a good girl for us. speaking of which, round two once you’re fed?”

•──♥︎

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lostinthewiind · 3 years ago

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching

Song → 18 by Anarbor

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Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward.

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you.

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy.

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair.

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park.

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat.

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed.

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different.

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret.

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses.

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish.

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him.

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #keishin #mature #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #part 4 #song fic

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greenygreenland · 3 years ago

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Date: Jean Havoc x Reader (w/ Big Brother Roy Mustang)

REQUESTED

-PRETEND ROY IS YOUNGER FOR THE SAKE OF THIS ONE-SHOT (say, like 20-ish) -sorry this took so long. I had an internship and it got a little crazy

-idc about the timeline because this is a one-shot and i’m not gonna use my big brain lmaooo

Summary: Overprotective Roy? Yes. You’re dating Jean Havoc and your bro watches your first date from the shadows.

Nervous. That was the first emotion you felt when you stepped out of the front door. Today was a big day, maybe more so than you’d like to believe. The sun shimmered overhead, where the sparse clouds drifted lazily across the sky. “Bye, Roy,” you called. “I’ll be back around sixteen o’clock.”

Roy was your elder brother by four years. If a guard dog had a human personification, it would definitely be him. For all your life, he wrote himself off as the responsible sibling. He acted like his grades were better than yours, like he was the one to take out the trash, or finish all the dishes before cockroaches decided to make home in them.

Anyone would have thought that to be true. After all, Roy was young and rose up the military ranks at an alarming rate. But you knew better, along with his close colleagues. Roy was stupid, overprotective, and impulsive. He would do anything that interested him, and if it didn’t, he’d pay no mind to it.

You prayed your brother would pay no mind today.

The front door slammed open with a creak. “Where do you think you’re going?” Roy inquired. He squinted at you as if you were about to do something stupid. “And what are you wearing? I hope you have shorts under that.” You rolled your eyes and adjusted the purse slung over your shoulder.

This sun dress was a gift from Jean for your (age) birthday. The skirt flowed in the passing breezes like a flower, illuminating all the vibrant colours under the rays of sun. It was a beautiful dress. If Roy thought otherwise, you’d make him understand. “It’s called a dress, doofus.” you sarcastically replied. “Not like you’d know when you only see Riza in the Command Centre. Poor you. Haven’t gotten the chance to see her in a skirt, huh?”

Roy averted his gaze to the sky with a haughty huff. “What are you talking about? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Heat rose up his cheeks. “If you’re implying I harbour romantic feelings for my First Lieutenant, then you’re--”

“A hundred percent correct.” you stated with a smug smirk. “I’ll be back around sixteen o’clock. Don’t burn down the house.” If Roy accidently did, you wouldn’t be surprised. He was the Flame Alchemist, and above all, your stupid big brother.

“Where are you going (Y/n)?” Roy called. You flung your hair over your shoulder with a bright smile that could have blinded even the sun. “A date, of course.” Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to rub salt in a wound. What Roy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. But then you saw look on his face. Nevermind, it was totally worth it to rub in his face: jaw agape, eyes as wide as saucers, and shoulders hunched down.

Ah, it was good to be you.

The city bustled with life. With the sun shining, and the beauty of living in your palms, you trotted down the street. There was nothing that could ruin your date.

"Jean!" Your tone was light as a laugh escaped your lips. "It feels like I haven't seen you in a while."

Cherry red dusted his cheeks. He stuffed the unlit cigarette into his pocket and offered you a hand. In his other, he placed a single (f/c) flower between your hairclips. "I saw you yesterday," he said with a bashful smile. "What do you mean it's been a while?" You bumped shoulders playfully and intertwined your fingers together. "Hyperbole, Jean."

"Well, it's one hyperbole too many." He remarked with a grin. "Do you want to have sandwiches today or a hot meal?" You shrugged, leaning against his shoulder. It was comfortable to have him hold you like this as you made your way down the street. He always had this secure way of linking your arms with his.

Off to the side, Roy couldn't say the same. It wasn’t like he planned on following you. Curiosity just swept him out of the house. And besides, what you didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt, right? Right.

Roy wished Jean didn’t hold you like you were some stuffed animal. For all he knew, Jean was just playing you. It wouldn't be the first when he had over fifteen other girls in the past four months. If Jean broke your heart, he'd be sure to fry the man up to a crisp. "Damn him," Roy grumbled. He pulled down his fedora and adjusted the glasses over his nose. "What makes him think he can touch (Y/n) like that?"

You suddenly laughed loudly at some joke. “Stop!” you cried, playfully smacking his arm. “That’s the worst one I’ve heard all week!”

Roy slinked out of the shadows with a low huff. He shouldn't have worn such a thick jacket. It had to be over twenty something degrees today. But that was no matter because you were being whisked away to the park--by Jean! Roy hurried down the street. Since when did you get lunch? And what was Jean going to do to you?

"The park's a good place." you noted. “Let’s go there.” The bag from Sally's Sandwiches hung from Jean's arm. It swung back and forth as he happily pranced along the street with you hand in hand. "Good thing I remembered to bring a blanket this time. We can sit under that tree."

Oh, what was Jean going to do to you? Roy couldn't stand the thought of you walking with him like that. There had to be an ulterior motive to this 'date'. Maybe Jean wanted to leech off you for money, or maybe he would try seducing you in the park? Roy shook his head. No, no.

Jean wasn't a bad guy. Maybe Roy was thinking too far ahead. But what if he wasn’t? What if Jean pulled some sneaky plan?

You crossed the street just as a car wildly swerved. Its tires screeched against the road like nails on a chalkboard, grinding against stone until it came your way. Roy frantically popped out of his hiding space. "What kind of idiot would--"

Suddenly, you slammed a hand into the ground. The stone transmuted, blocking the car from any unnecessary collisions. It smacked straight into the wall, smoke and steam rising from its engine. "(Y/n)!" cried Jean. "Are you okay?" He frantically placed a hand on either of your shoulders and looked you up and down. A smile rose to your lips. "I'm fine. Not even a scratch."

A sigh escaped Jean's lips. "That's good. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt." You placed a gentle hand to his cheek and pecked it (Roy wanted to gag). "I'm an Alchemist. It'd be a shame if I went down by a car."

"Don't joke about that," Jean chastised. He hooked his arm with yours again and led you away from the screeching onlookers and police. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Roy blinked. Did he hear Jean right? 'I don't know what I'd do if I lost you'? What was that supposed to mean? “Look at them, being all lovey-dovey...” Roy continued after the couple. They passed through a field of forest green grass, where flowers bloomed in straight, uniform lines all around. It was a beautiful spot to have a picnic.

You swung your arm, hand in hand with Jean. The sun kissed your heads from the Heaven’s, illuminating a bright happiness Roy couldn’t look away from. Urgh. He wanted to kick something, or better yet, set a tree on fire. How could you two look so perfect? You were only (age) and that was far too young to be dating.

Besides, you had a career in the military. If your little ‘relationship’ was sealed with a ring, you’d be separated. “Did they even think that through?” Roy grumbled to himself. He gritted his teeth together and ducked behind a bush.

“Excuse me sir.”

Roy glanced over his shoulder with a false smile. “Ah, what is it?” A little boy ball up and down in his hand. The glare on his face could have been intimidating, but Roy was Roy Mustang. He wouldn’t let some kid look down upon him. “Are you lost?”

The kid clutched the rock so tightly his knuckles turned white. “My mama said to watch out for creepy people. I think you fit well, Mr. Pervert.” He took a step back and launched the ball at Roy’s head. “Take that!”

“What are you talking about?!” Roy exclaimed. He jumped out of the bushes and brushed the leaves from his jacket. Boy, it was getting terribly hot in the sweltering heat. Poor Roy found himself losing what little patience remained. “I’m not a creep, kid! Where are your parents? If I was a creep, you would have been kidnapped already. I’m just trying to make sure my sister...!”

At that very second, you so happened to come to a stop. At that very second, you so happened to stare. At that very second, you so happened to recognise a face among strangers.

Roy was royally screwed.

The little kid pointed at Roy as if he were the most wanted criminal in all of Amestris. “Lady!” he screeched. “I saw this guy watching you since you got here! He’s a creep! Call the cops!” Jean squinted at Roy. At first, he actually believed the kid was telling the truth. What kind of normal person wore a winter coat, a fedora, and a pair of sunglasses if not to deal drugs in the alleyways?

“Hold up...” Jean blinked owlishly. “Colonel, is that you?!”

You released Jean’s arm. “Oh, it’s him alright.” A menacing glare rose to your face as you cracked your knuckles. What was Roy supposed to do? The wrath of his sister was not something he could brace himself for, especially when she could be just as impulsive as Edward Elric.

Roy waved his arms in denial. “I don’t know what that kid’s talking about. I just happened to pass by, and in the process, I ended up dropping my wallet, which turned out to be in the bushes, so--”

“Save it.” You cracked your knuckles and pulled on a glove. “It’s time to crank up the heat, because we’re having fried Alchemist tonight.”

Anger. That was the only emotion you felt as you chased your big brother around the park. Today was supposed to be a big day. You planned to walk around, maybe go shopping, and spend the night wandering around with Jean for a whole day. But no. Your stupid, idiotic, big brother had to be the creepy party crasher.

#FMA #fma fanfiction #fmab fanfiction #fmab roy #jean havoc #Roy Mustang #fma x reader #Fullmetal Alchemist #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Fullmetal Alchemist x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader #x reader #fanfiction #anime #fmab x reader

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sunrisefairy · 4 years ago

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Last chances

Pairing: George Weasley x reader Warning: Alcohol, swearing, angst (but worth it i promise) Summary: Y/N is getting married. To someone that isn’t George.

A/N: this was written for @inglourious-imagines 1K writing challenge (i just realised i didnt tell you before hand what prompts i was gonna do so i hope thats okay) based off the prompts ‘you need to leave’ and ‘d-did you just k-kiss me?’

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines @klausdatprettyboi @georgeweasleyswhre @horrorxweasley @amourtentiaa send me an ask if you would like to be added

———————————————————————————————————

George felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs as he read over the golden cursive words printed onto the crisp white paper. He could feel Fred’s pitiful stare burning holes into the side of his head, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the paper in his grasp. George’s brain was overflowing with thoughts, but his head was empty at the same time, as if every time he reached out his thoughts were dissolving into liquid and slipping through his fingers.

By the time George managed to make eye contact with Fred, his eyes were red and burning with tears, the only thought he could wrap his fingers around was the one which was destroying him the most, “she’s getting married?”

~~~

The sun was beating down harshly making the sand feel like tiny grains of lava, but George didn’t care. It was the middle of summer and the Weasley family had invited the Y/L/N’s to the beach. John and Nancy Y/L/N had been very good friends with Molly and Arthur Weasley for many years having met during high school. But soon after graduation John and Nancy got married and decided to travel the world which they had done for a few years before having their daughter Y/N. They moved around a lot while Y/N was a baby, still wanting to explore and see what the world had to offer. But now, Y/N was 7 and they decided it would do her and themselves some good to settle down somewhere, plant some roots so to speak. Which is how they ended back in the small town John and Nancy grew up in, the one where the Weasleys were still living.

Giving that it was summer, and the weather was reaching high temperatures the Weasley family decided to spend the day at the beach so the children could kill some energy and excitedly invited their old friends, John and Nancy to catch up.

George was particularly thrilled not only because he loved days at the beach playing with his siblings and making sandcastles just to pretend he was a giant and stomp on them, but he couldn’t wait to meet Y/N. His parents had told him and Fred that Y/N was their age and although Fred wasn’t very interested in playing with a girl and would much rather prank Ron, George had a good feeling about Y/N.

George had just finished constructing a sandcastle he named ‘Castle Weasley’ and was about to jump on it when his mum calls for him. He drags his bare feet through the hot sand over to his parents who are chatting with 2 people he doesn’t recognise.

“Fred, George this is John and Nancy, and this is their little girl Y/N.” Molly gestures to the timid girl hiding behind her mum’s leg.

Reluctantly Y/N moves from her previous hiding spot and stares doe eyes up at the twins in front of her. George’s mouth is dry and his palms are clammy, but he doesn’t think it’s from the blistering heat. George Weasley is staring at the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

~~~

It’s been 3 weeks since Y/N’s wedding invitation arrived in the mail and George had shoved it under a pile of bills he was also planning to ignore. Although he doesn’t need to see the invitations to remember the words which were written on the paper ‘kindly join us for the wedding of Y/N L/N and William Chapman. Saturday the seventeenth of April at 11 o’clock.’

It was the 10th of April today, just 7 days till Y/N’s wedding. George felt bile rising in the back of his throat every time he thinks about Y/N marrying someone which wasn’t himself. George has had a crush on the girl ever since he first met her that day on the beach. Back then he only ever saw it as a silly little crush which he hoped he’d eventually get over. But years went on and his crush only grew and grew until it was suffocating. When they reached high school, George planned to tell Y/N about his feelings but chickened out each time, scared of ruining their friendship.

To be honest George always felt (maybe he just hoped) that him and Y/N were meant for each other and sooner or later they’d be together. He held tightly onto this when Y/N started dating William. George was optimistic that William and Y/N’s relationship wasn’t serious and eventually they’d break up and George could finally confess his feelings. All of that went down the drain the second George open up that stupid envelope.

“I ran into Y/N today. At the store,” Fred says carefully trying to gage his brother’s reaction to her name. George just offers a grunt in response, eye staring blankly at the tv in front of him. “she asked about you, wants to know if you’re going to the wedding since she hasn’t heard anything from you.”

George doesn’t reply. Fred just sighs, ”c’mon mate. You’re really not going to go? It’s Y/N we’re talking about here. She’s your best mate.”

George racks his ringers through his already messy hair, squeezing his eyes closed. “That’s exactly why I can’t go. It’s Y/N. How can I sit there and watch Y/N marry some other guy and pretend I’m okay with it?” George feels tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, it’s a wonder he has any tears left to cry.

Fred moves closer to George on the couch, wrapping his arm around his twin who chokes out a sob, “I know buddy, I know it fucking hurts.”

~~~

Since graduating high school George and Y/N made it tradition to catch up once a week if not more so they wouldn’t lose touch. But their newfound busy lives with university and work meant they hadn’t seen each other for a month. They finally found a day that they were both free and decided to meet up for coffee. George had paid for Y/N’s latte while she found them a table by the window. He set their drinks down admiring how beautiful Y/N looked, she was practically glowing.

“So, Y/N what’s new with you? I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” George takes a long sip of his coffee.

George knows Y/N must have some important news for him, judging solely off the smile that she’s failing to conceal. “Well, if you must know. I met someone.”

The colour drains from George’s face and he coughs trying to regain his composure. “Like a boy?”

“Yes a boy silly, his name is William and I met him at the library. It was actually really funny I was turning down one of the aisles and he” George drowns out Y/N’s voice, he can hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to jump out.

George knows, he knows it’s his own fault for not telling Y/N how he feels sooner. He knows he doesn’t have anyone else to blame but himself, but it doesn’t make this hurt any less. Sweet, kind Y/N, who had gently cradled George’s heart unknowingly since they were 7, has squeezed it between her slender fingers like a stress ball.

“George?” Y/N words break him from his trance.

“That sounds amazing Y/N, I’m really happy for you.”

~~~

It’s Monday and Y/N has been trying to contact George for days with no luck. She ran into Fred last Saturday who said George has just been super busy with work, she didn’t believe it one bit, she needed to find out why George has been ignoring her.

She pushes the store door open and the bell above chimes announcing her arrival.

“Sorry we’re closed for the day!” a voice travels through the store before it’s owner exits the storeroom to see who the culprit is, who clearly cannot read the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door.

George’s eyes land on Y/N who is standing by the front door unmoving and twiddling with her fingers, playing with an engagement ring that seems out of place on her left hand. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N steps closer, not noticing the way George takes a small step back, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

George doesn’t speak, he’s certain that his voice would be unsteady if he did. Y/N hates the silence, so speaks again, “I’m getting married you know, on Saturday.”

George sucks in a breath, turning his back to fix one of the displays. “Yeah, congratulations,” he mumbles.

“I didn’t know if you got the invitation or not, kind of expected you to call.” Y/N shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, moving so she is standing beside George who is avoiding her gaze. “What’s the matter Georgie?”

George shakes his head, “kind of fast isn’t it? Why the rush to get married to that twat?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, ever since George met William, he made it very clear he didn’t like the bloke. “George stop it. He proposed and I said yes. We figured why wait to start our lives together, y’know? So on Saturday I thought that-“

“-I’m not going.” George’s words felt like a hot knife to Y/N’s chest. When George finally mets her gaze he continues, “I’m not going to the wedding Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because William is a prick and doesn’t deserve you. I can’t sit there and watch you marry some idiot.” George knows his voice is getting louder and that his hands are flailing around but he doesn’t care. “He’s an absolute tosser! You deserve better than William.” You deserve me.

“William has done nothing but love me, George.” The thought of George not being there at her wedding breaks her heart. George was her best friend; how could she not have her best friend at the wedding. “Are you really not going to be there for me?” Y/N’s voice is quiet and timid.

It shatters George to see her so upset and the next words almost kill him.

“No, I won’t be there.”

~~~

Click.

“Okay mum that’s enough photos now!” Y/N giggles trying to hide her face behind her hands.

“Just one more please! George put your arm around her this time.” Nancy says holding the camera up to her face.

George wraps his arm around Y/N waist pulling her closer to him very aware of the way Y/N leans into his side. It’s the night on the school dance and somehow he had gathered enough courage to ask Y/N to go with him, she agreed of course and now they were standing out the front of Y/N’s house in front of the rose bushes while Y/N and George’s parents took photos.

“Okay now one with the four of you together,” Molly says pushing Fred and his date over to the rose bush. The four of them stood together smiling at all the flashing cameras which almost blinded them.

Molly wipes a tear that slips down her cheek, she always got emotional during things like this, “I cannot believe my little babies are growing up. 16 and going to a school dance with their gorgeous dates.”

“Right mum that’s enough, we’re gonna be late,” George groans although he didn’t mind having his arm around Y/N’s middle.

Molly nods agreeing, “right fine! Don’t want to keep you from your dance, have fun!”

Arthur drops the 4 of them off at the school hall reminding them he’d be back at 12 to pick them up.

All 4 of them spend most of the night dancing together and laughing at Fred’s questionable dance moves. Soon the upbeat song comes to an end and a much slowly one started playing. Immediately Fred extends a hand to his date, “m’lady. Care to dance?”

George turns his body to face Y/N who is gazing up at his tall frame, he gulps “Y/N do you wanna dance with me?”

The smile that spreads across her face could light up the room, “yes please.”

For the remainder of the night George and Y/N sway slowly to the music, Y/N moves closer to George until her head is resting against his chest and his arms find their place on her hips.

Y/N can hear George humming to the music above her and she smiles giving his shoulders a small squeeze, then whispers so quietly she’s worried George doesn’t hear her. “I hope we are always best friends Georgie.”

“I promise we will be love.”

~~~

Friday night and George hasn’t spoken to Y/N since she visited the shop. He’s ignored her phone calls and text messages; she came into the shop again on Wednesday, but George locked himself in the backroom telling Fred he had to do stocktake.

George could feel himself falling apart, Y/N was upset with him, Fred was annoyed at his childish behaviour. George felt himself fall deeper and deeper as his heartache and sorrow grew stronger every time he remembered Y/N’s engagement. The only thing which seems to numb his feelings was the alcohol.

At this point George wasn’t sure how much he had had to drink, but the buzz running through his system was better than the bitterness he was feeling before. It had just hit 11:30pm at night and he had finished the last of the tequila from the bottle. With no alcohol to distract his brain his eyes drift over the numerous photo frames he has hanging on the living room wall. His eyes stop at one photo in particular, it’s of him and Y/N from the day at the beach when they were 7. Despite it being the first time the two had met, they looked like they’d known each other since birth. Y/N had been very shy when she was introduced to the twins, but George quickly made her feel comfortable and the day was spent with lots of laughter and smiles. In the photo George and Y/N are stood side by side on the sand, grinning up at the camera. They had just made a huge sandcastle village and were very proud to show off their creation. George’s eyes wander down the photograph to their hands which are tightly intertwined. He bites his lip before stumbling out the front door.

~~~

“Do you ever think about getting married Georgie?” Y/N questions, she’s lying beside George outside on the grass, staring up at the clouds moving above them. They did this a lot, gazing at the sky trying to find the funniest shapes in the clouds.

George is only 12 but he knows exactly who he wants to marry, not that he will admit that.

“No, not really.” George tries not to freak out when he feels Y/N’s hand intertwine with his own, “do you?”

Y/N nods, “yep, I want to marry someone who is funny and will let me eat ice cream for dinner.” She giggles and it makes George’s heart soar, it the 5 years of knowing Y/N it had quickly become George’s favourite sound.

He turns his head to face Y/N, she’s still looking up at the sky, there’s a faint smile on her lips.

“I’m funny.” George isn’t sure what he’s insinuating.

Y/N turns to face him, “you are. Would you let me eat ice cream for dinner?” he nods eagerly.

Y/N purses her lips before smiling, “well then Georgie, maybe I’ll marry you.”

George can only hope that’s true.

~~~

George’s fist hammers against the wooden door. It knows it late and there’s a chance William will answer instead of Y/N but in this moment he doesn’t care. “C’mon Y/N open up! It’s me George.”

The door swings open and Y/N is standing on the other side in a fluffy dressing gown wrapped snuggly around her body rubbing her eyes. “George what the hell are you doing here?” There’s a trace of annoying on her voice, mostly because he’d woken her up but also because she’s been trying to talk to him all week and he decides to show up at her house at midnight the night before her wedding.

“I-um,” George stammers, his words getting stuck in this throat. He has spent practically his whole life wanting to tell Y/N he loves her but never being able to find the words, this time was no exception. So, in George’s alcohol fuelled mind he decides if he can’t use words then actions are the next best thing.

Y/N is staring blanking at the redhead on her porch, eager to know the reason why he’s standing in front of her after ignoring her all week. George timidly steps closer towards Y/N before resting his hands on her cheeks and pressing their lips together roughly.

Y/N is stood frozen on the spot until her hands reach up to rest on George’s chest. She can taste the strong alcohol on Georges mouth, and she’s pulled back to reality and pushing him away. “D-did you just k-kiss me?”

George nods.

Y/N is filled with anger and it starts to bubble up inside of her. “What the fuck George? You’ve been ignoring me all week not answering my calls or texts and-and then you just come here drunk and do that? You can’t come here the night before my wedding and kiss me. It’s not fair!”

George’s shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, I just had to say- that I…” he pauses again, his eyes scanning over Y/N’s face hoping somehow she’s learnt how to mind read.

“What? You had to say what George?” Y/N is aware that she’s yelling but she can’t bring herself to care.

“That I love you.”

Y/N doesn’t speak her brain is running a hundred miles a minute. The silence is unpleasant and unbearable, George looking into Y/N’s eyes trying to read her expression.

“You need to leave,” Y/N utters, her face unmoving.

It’s like George’s feet are glued to the ground, he’s brain is screaming at him to move but he can’t.

“You need to leave George.” Y/N’s voice is firmer this time, “I’m getting married tomorrow and you need to leave right now.”

~~~

George Weasley is an idiot. No, he’s more than an idiot, George Weasley is a dickhead, plain and simple.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he got home, he kept replaying the night over and over. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with Y/N staring back at him. Except she’s staring with so much disgust it makes George feel sick, he can still hear Y/N’s voice telling him to leave. George Weasley not only managed to lose the life of his life in one night but also his best friend. He feels like a dickhead.

George glances over at the clock next to his bed. 10:30 am. Y/N is getting married in 30 minutes. His chest pains, he thinks he might throw up.

George staggers out of bed and towards the kitchen, he needs water. His journey is interrupted by a harsh knock from the front door. He sighs, he knew Fred would come around to try and convince him to go to the wedding. George figures he couldn’t go to the wedding even if he wanted to, sure that his invitation was no longer valid after last night.

“Fred, seriously I’m not going,” George flings open the door and he almost passes out.

Y/N was standing there looking like an angel, he thinks maybe he died from alcohol poisoning and was actually in heaven. Y/N’s hair was laying loosely across her shoulders, she was wearing a breathtaking white gown which hugged her body perfectly.

George mouth is gaping open his voice coming out breathless and in a whisper, “what-what are you doing here?” He’s half expecting Y/N to slap him across the face for his antics last night.

“I couldn’t do it,” Y/N also whispers, as if this is a secret conversation, only meant for the two of them.

“Why?” George squeaks.

“Because I love you.”

Y/N steps closer and drapes her arms around George’s neck pulling him closer so their foreheads are resting against each other.

As soon as she woke up this morning Y/N felt ill. It wasn’t until she was standing in her wedding dress by the church did she realise why she felt sick. It was because the man that was waiting for her inside the church wasn’t George. Her mum sensed her daughters doubts and offered a comforting hand on her shoulder, “darling, you tell me right now if you want out. I’ll get a car, I’ll sort out this whole thing, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Without thinking Y/N had responded, “I want out mum.” That lead to Y/N zooming away in her dad’s car straight for George’s place.

Y/N gazes into George’s warm and gentle eyes, she felt home, “I love you even though you’re an idiot who waited to tell me you loved me till the night before my wedding to someone else.”

George chuckles, “yeah I guess I am but I’m your idiot.”

#inglourious1kwritingchallenge #George Weasley #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley x you #George Weasley Angst #George Weasley fluff #George Weasley oneshot #George Weasley one shot #George weasley fanfiction #Writing challenge

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bastillewolf · 4 years ago

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Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

Tag list currently closed.

Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

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#Corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse #among us #youtube fanfiction #corpse bride #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

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doyumacy · 4 years ago

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FALLOUT |LH| ONE

*gif not mine

TWO

SUMMARY: You, at such young age made your way in business becoming a successful one. With that a lot of jealousy and rivalry came. Your mother finally convinces you to hire a team of security just in case someone tried to hurt you. And that’s when Donghyuck becomes your personal bodyguard, following you everywhere you go. You don’t mind at all since you find him very entertaining and nice. What you don’t know is that he’s the one that has been hired to keep you close and kill you.

PAIRING: reader x bodyguard!donghyuck

WARNINGS: mentions of jaemin and taeyong. swearing, blood (i’ll let you know when there are parts with blood mentions), smut, violence, angst

WORD COUNT: 2,8K

7 am. Wake up, take a shower, have breakfast and rush to the office. That was your daily routine and you were used to it. But no that morning. You were getting ready to go to your interview with the TIME Magazine. They were working on an article that would be called “Women Under 30 Are Leading the Pack in Entrepreneurship and Innovation.”

4 years ago, you’d wake up around 9, get ready to go to class and have lunch with your friends, but how does time change, right? Now you were a CEO of your own company with no time for your friends or even yourself. It’s not like you hated it, you liked being a CEO and being recognised by your hard work. It made you proud and wanted to show people that if you really want something and if you work hard for it, you’ll get it.

At the main entrance, you were greeted by the staff and one of them guided you to the room where they interviewed you and took some pictures of you.

That wasn’t your first interview, but you couldn’t feel nervous because you wanted to say the right words to encourage other people.

...

“Lia, I will be back in ten minutes. Can you sort this papers out on my desk?“

“Okay, Boss.”

It was a beautiful sunny day and the office was busy as usual. You were reading the contract at the table trying to get some order into them when the door opened. Nobody just walked into your office without knocking, so of course it had to be…

“Hi mom...” you greeted her.

“Hi sweetheart,” she smirked at you. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” you nodded and placed the papers on the table, “what brings you here, mom?”

“I can’t visit my beautiful daughter?” She put her right hand on her chest.

You giggled. “Of course you can, but I’d love you to call me first.”

You stood and walked towards her, hugging her. “You want some coffee? Water?”

“I’m fine, darling. I just had brunch with a friend,” she smiled and sat in one of the chairs in front of your desk. “Speaking of which, she told me something that got me really upset at you.”

“Why?” You frowned and sat in front of her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re getting death threats, (Y/N)?” She looked at you.

You sighed. “Because they don’t matter. You know I don’t pay attention to that. It’s pointless.”

“We’re not talking about hate comments, (Y/N). Someone is threatening you with killing you.”

“Mom, you don’t have to w-“

“Of course I can, and I will. That’s why I contacted an old friend who used to be the Prime Minister’s bodyguard. He’s gonna meet you tomorrow,” she informed you.

“Tomorrow I can’t, I have a meeting.”

“Then you better make some space or you’ll be seeing me here everyday,” your mom smiled. “This is serious. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re my baby.”

“I can take care of myself, mom. Please, I don’t want a full team of bodyguards,” you sighed.

“You will only have 2 and you won’t even notice they’re there,” she said and placed a hand on yours. “Please.”

You stared at her for a couple of seconds and then sighed, nodding. “Okay, fine. But it’s temporary.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Later that day, after going home you went to the supermarket to get some groceries and went home. You loved cooking, but you weren’t exactly the tidiest when it came to prepare your delicious meals.

After you ate, you checked your email and realised that your mom’s friend had sent you a file with the two people that would be working with you. Somehow you expected an army of people and that annoyed you, but you thought you could with two people. You didn’t even bother to check the profiles since you knew what their work would be.

You closed your laptop and went to your bedroom. Sometimes you thought your life was boring because you barely talked to someone else. Your last relationship didn’t end well and you were still a little bit hesitant to know someone else. Or scared.

And friends? You didn’t have many, but Lena, Taeyong and Jaemin were always there for you. And so were you.

You knew Lena since you were a toddler, your mother was good friends with her parents and you two got along very well. You met Taeyong in high school when you were trying to find the science room and since he was a senior, he helped you. Everyone used to think Taeyong and you dated, but in fact, you never loved Taeyong that way. You saw him as your older brother and he as his younger sister. And last but not least, you met Jaemin through Taeyong.

At first both of you didn’t get along well since he was all an extrovert and didn’t quite understand you were a little introverted, but he with time understood and stopped forcing you. Then you became the crackheads of the group, always laughing and going out and sometimes getting drunk.

You loved college days.

And love? You met Jaehyun during your first year of college, he was in your economics class and you couldn’t help yourself falling for him. He was charming, funny and so handsome.

Jaehyun was your first everything: your first love, your first boyfriend, your first kiss and the first guy that broke your heart.

You two dated for almost 2 years, but ended when he told you he didn’t love you anymore and didn’t want to hurt you and left.

Months after that, you took the opportunity to go as an exchange student to Japan where you met Yuta. You were never a thing, but both of you had feelings for each other but never went official since you would stay there only for 6 months.

You came back to Korea and graduated, and had no time for love since you were too busy starting your business. But Yuta would come on business trips to Korea sometimes and meet you.

But the last time you saw him was a year ago.

The next morning, a tall man showed up to your office holding a black folder. Everything about him was intimidating and you knew he was your mom’s friend.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/L/N). I’m Kim Hyunwoo,” he extended his hand.

“Hi,” you greeted and you shook hands with him. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you. Please sit.”

“Thanks,” he said and sat in one of the black chairs in front of your desk. “I sent you an email yesterday, did you read it?”

“I saw it, but didn’t read it. Sorry,” you apologised.

“It’s okay, that's why I brought this,” he placed the black folder on the desk and tossed it to you. “These are the files of the people that will be working with you.”

“Why is it important to check them out? I mean, they’ll be around me 24/7.”

“Because I want you to know their abilities and their tasks.”

You sighed and grabbed the folder opening it. You saw the first man around his 30’s, no emotions showed in his face. Kang Sungho. According to his file he was specialised in driving and trained in evasive driving techniques, such as executing short-radius turns to change the direction of the vehicle, high-speed cornering, and so on.

You passed the next page and saw a picture of a man with tanned golden skin, brown hair and dark eyes. He looked intimidating. He was trained in pretty much everything, from every type of knife to every type of gun.

Impressive.

Suddenly, the door from your office opened and the air left your lungs momentarily when his eyes met yours, dark and calculating. You expected him to offer you a polite smile as most people do, but his face remained in a stern mask. You somehow prayed he wouldn’t be your bodyguard because the less thing you needed was a distraction.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” the voice of your Hyunwoo forced you to switch your gaze to him and you shoot him a questioning look. “This is Lee Donghyuck” the boy nodded slightly in your direction at the mention of his name, “he’s your new personal bodyguard.”

You couldn't help but let your eyebrows raise comically. The world somehow hated you.

“You would not even know I’m here, Miss,” Donghyuck said.

You nodded.

Donghyuck awoke to the steady patter of rain upon his window, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the rising sun. He realised he had awoken up ten minutes before his set alarm, which made him grumble.

He got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, took a cold shower and after that, Donghyuck put on a black pants and before putting the white shirt, he put on a bulletproof vest making him look thicker and then continued with a white interior t-shirt, a white shirt, put on his tie adjusting it and lastly, he slipped on the black jacket.

Donghyuck gave himself a quick look in the mirror and sighed. He placed his hands on the countertop and asked how did he end in that position?

Yes, he was an assassin.

No, he didn't kill women.

But the money he was offered to do so was such a big amount that was almost repulsive. And he needed the money.

Donghyuck had never pretended to be someone else before, he just showed up and took down his task and then left. Now he was stuck with some random woman and follow her until she was in love with him and kill her in the worst way.

What was with people these days? He didn't want to know.

Jeno was already awake and had made breakfast, “you gotta eat well today in case you die protecting your boss,“ he joked and sat down in front of him.

Donghyuck and Jeno had known each other for many years and were roommates. There was kindness in his smile, a good man. He knew what ‘Haechan’ did for a living, but decided to ignore it since he rather thought his friend was also a good man.

Donghyuck rolled his eyes. “I cant believe I'm doing this.”

“You can't still say no, you know?” Jeno looked at him.

“I know, but I need the money,” Donghyuck said and had a sip of coffee, “I will retire after this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don't wanna do this anymore,” Donghyuck shrugged.

“Well, then get the job done and get those millions,” Jeno said and then shook his head, “that sounded awful. Ignore it.”

Donghyuck laughed. “Are you sure you don't wanna work with me?”

“One hundred percent.”

…

A perfectly collected black-haired woman, dressed in a skirt under her white knee and a pale pink blouse appeared in the room. "Good morning, you must be Lee Donghyuck, right?" She asked kindly.

"Yes," Donghyuck replied, "Hello, you are....?"

"I'm Yun Somin, Kim Hyunwoo personal assistant," she smiled nicely. “You’re the new bodyguard we hired a few days ago.”

"Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck expressed.

“Please, come with me so I can give you your equipment,“ Somin said.

Donghyuck followed her to a room that was an office painted beige and champagne, and it had only one wall-sized window, which faced the buildings. On the dark brown desk sat a desktop computer, a notebook lying open, and a stack of papers sitting under a turtle-shaped paperweight and there was a swivel chair in the middle of the office. A bookshelf, bursting with books was behind the dark brown desk.

Somin opened a desk drawer and pulled out a black box that contained a small stainless steel knife, a Beretta Px4 Storm and finally a earphone for a walkie-talkie.

Donghyuck put the earphone on his ear and the walkie-talkie on the waist band. He put the gun away by placing it on the waist band as well and the knife inside the inner jacket pocket.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s codename is Sunflower. Whenever you’re public, that’s the name you’ll use,“ Somin informed.

Donghyuck nodded, “Sunflower. Got it.“

Somin opened the door for him and let him in. You were if anything was better looking than Donghyuck expected. Your face told of a leaned body beneath your wintry garb and your expression was serious but not unkind.

You were hot.

Fuck. Donghyuck thought. He was so screwed.

“You would not even know I’m here, Miss,” Donghyuck said.

You nodded and cleared your throat. “Well, let's keep going. We have a long day coming,“You said, walking to the door.

Donghyuck walked behind you and raised his arm above his mouth and spoke into the mic, “Sunflower's going out.“

…

You were the smile, or at least that was what Donghyuck thought of you. Everything about you was a soft and understated joy as you greeted each person at every event. You really cared about the people and their interest and could see in your eyes your uprightness. People loved you and Donghyuck didn't quite understand why someone wanted you dead. Your kindness couldnt be the reason, could it?

“So, Donghyuck, what do you think?”

He turned back to Sungho. “She's different from every shark out there. Yeah, I’ll bet they’re lining up to off her.”

“Well, someone’s been sending some pretty disturbing emails. The NIS can’t pin the guy down.”

“They’ll find them.“ Donghyuck addressed.

The eventful day was over. You all spent the day going to different meetings with several people. You were exhausted but you were happy to see your friend Taeyong, after not seeing him for almost two months.

The black car stopped at a red light and you took the opportunity to take out your phone and reply to some text messages. You realised Donghyuck was looking at you and Donghyuck quickly looked straight ahead. “So, Donghyuck? You have been doing this for so long?”

“Not really, ma’am,“ he responded.

You considered him. He didn’t look like his concept of a bodyguard, big and beefy. He wasn't that tall. Slimy built, with a very attractive face, enigmatic yet intelligent dark eyes and dark hair. “And what did you do before?”

“I… used to train some people at a boxing gym,“ Donghycuk lied.

“Cool,” you smiled. “Maybe you could show me some movements.”

You quickly regretted saying that because of how red your cheeks got. Donghyuck smirked without looking at you.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Donghyuck got out of the car and opened the door for you and you entered the restaurant with him following you.

"Sunflower's in," He spoke into the mic.

A young woman, with loose hair dressed all in black, took you to the restaurant's private lounge, where Taeyong was already waiting for you.

You hugged your friend and smiled, "The Bahamas suited you."

"Thank you, Woman-Under-30-Leading-the-Pack-in-Entrepreneurship-and-Innovation" Taeyong beamed and looked at Donghyuck, who stood with his back to you right at the glass door, "who is he?"

You looked at Donghyuck and spoke as you sat down, "It's my personal bodyguard."

“Why do you have a personal bodyguard? Did something happen? ” He asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, everything’s fine," you calmed him down and grabbed the menu, opening it.

He sat in front of you and still looked worried, “how do you want me to be calm? Something is going on and you don't want to tell me. "

You smirked a little and shook your head, "really, Taeyong, everything is under control. There’s nothing to be concerned about.“

Taeyong sighed and nodded, "Okay, I will believe in your words."

You smiled satisfied and began to read the menu. Taeyong did the same. Jaemin stood in front of the door of the restaurant's private lounge but Donghyuck prevented him from entering.

"Identify," Donghyuck demanded, looking at him.

"Na Jaemin, owner and chef of this restaurant," he replied, frowning, "who are you?"

Before Donghyuck responded, you opened the door and looked at Jaemin, “I'm sorry, he's my new bodyguard. Lee Donghyuck, all right, he will have dinner with us too. "

Donghyuck nodded, “understood. Enjoy your meal, guys. "

“Thank you,“ Taeyong responded as Donghyuck closed the door.

“I can't believe the two most influential people of Korea are here in my restaurant,“ Jaemin joked as he sat.

You chuckled, “let’s see if it’s as good as people say.“

…

Softly splashing water droplets hit the car windows as Sungho drove onwards. You watched the raindrops race down to the windows. You had been with Taeyong and Jaemin for almost three hours, and now you were on your way to your house.

"Sorry for staying there for a long time, you haven't even eaten," you apologised.

“It’s fine, ma’am. It's our job,“ Donghyuck replied.

“You can call me (Y/N). We’re almost the same age,“ You said

“Even so, you’re my boss. It’s not right,“ he responded.

You chuckled and looked at him in the rearview mirror, "Well, then as your boss, I order it to you."

Donghyuck smiled and you noticed it, “I'll try it.“

#haechan x reader #haechan imagines #haechan smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck imagine #nct x reader #nct imagine #nct smut #donghyuck smut

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thealexchen · 3 years ago

Note

i’ve actually read both of the articles that you mentioned earlier! I could see where both of them were coming from at varying points, though shannon liao’s struck me as a tad harsh, as someone who felt very seen by Alex, particularly with regard to her asian-american identity, and the cultural details and familial attitudes you see displayed throughout the game (especially in episode 5.) I could see why others would like them to be more overt, but they’re still present & relevant as is, imo.

I'm happy you read and enjoyed them! Well, since we’re on the subject, I might as well give my fuller thoughts about all this. This answer got horrendously long, so I'm putting it under a read more. I really wanted to talk about this more fully, so thank you for sending this ask!

I definitely see Robert's point in his article. Alex didn’t need to be Asian for the story of True Colors to be told, but it’s still meaningful that she is so that Asian fans and fans of color can look up to her and feel represented. The Chens buck a lot of stereotypes too: Mrs. Chen was not a “tiger mom” and her kids and husband remember her fondly. Mr. Chen doesn’t push Alex and Gabe to excel in school, and in fact neither Alex nor Gabe went to college, but they still had happy futures. Alex isn’t the best friend or the Asian schoolgirl or the dragon lady or the Asian nerd. But at the same time, when Robert says "Alex never really talks about her thoughts on Chinese culture,” that’s like— well, what’s wrong with talking about it? Why not talk about it more explicitly? The words “Asian” and “Chinese” and “Vietnamese” aren’t even used in the game when "gay" and "lesbian" were, and that's a little disappointing.

I figured people would figure out Alex was at least Chinese because of her last name, but I saw some streamers unsure of what Alex’s ethnicity even was (“Alex is… Chinese, right?”). That was disappointing because Asians tend to be treated as a monolith when we’re so internally diverse. Also, it’s completely possible to miss that Alex and Gabe are also half-Vietnamese. Their mother’s name is Giang “Wendy” Chen, a Vietnamese name, but that’s only in the credits. There’s far less Vietnamese (and Southeast Asian) rep than Chinese, so I wish that had been made more explicit.

In Life is Strange 2, Sean and Daniel’s struggles (personal and institutional) were centered around their identity as half-Mexican boys. True Colors almost seemed to be going in the opposite direction in that Alex’s Asian heritage never really becomes plot-relevant, but Alex and Gabe’s background comes into focus in the last chapter.

Part of Shannon’s critique was that because Alex’s parents aren’t in the picture, the game can’t explore Asian culture through a familial lens. There is some truth to that: for children of immigrants in particular, their parents are their strongest (and sometimes only) link to their race and culture. I thought a big missed opportunity was exploring Alex’s possible sense of isolation and struggle to reconnect with her Asian heritage after being separated from her family.

After growing up with two Asian parents, eating Asian food, celebrating Asian holidays, likely speaking Asian languages, etc. it would have likely been disorienting and lonely for Alex to suddenly be raised by non-Asian foster parents and lose all those traditions all at once. Possible comments like “I really miss Mom’s pho” or “Do you know how difficult it is to find hoisin sauce in the stores around here?” could have inferred more at that specific kind of loss and isolation in Haven Springs. The game touches upon this very briefly when you look at Gabe’s shrine, and Alex does comment “I don’t even know if I’m doing this right… but I felt like I had to do something.” In this way, I find it especially poignant that she still held onto cultural traditions after so long.

But I still thought Shannon’s critique was overly harsh. The little details really do add up, like in Alex’s childhood home, and meant a lot to me too. And most importantly, there was representation behind the scenes too: Alex was voiced by two(!) Asian American women and the lead writer, Felice Kuan, is Chinese. I think Alex naming her mouse Shu-shu was my favorite detail. Because it’s the one detail you can’t miss. Every streamer remembers Shu-Shu’s name and loves how cute she is and they can probably infer it’s a Chinese term. It just is so visible and empowering in that way and my heart felt warm every time I heard someone say “Aw! Shu-shu!"

But that doesn't mean Alex's Asian heritage didn't matter at all. I really appreciated that Alex's backstory still mattered because she came from a poor, working-class immigrant family. Her life circumstances were used for drama, but none of Alex's suffering was racially motivated and that felt tastefully done. I’m gonna paraphrase a comment I saw on alliebeemac’s playthrough of episode 5: "It's no coincidence that both Alex and Ryan lost their mothers at a young age, but because Ryan's father was a military veteran and had a high-paying job as a Typhon foreman, he got to keep his childhood whereas Alex's entire world was torn apart... And if you want to look at it even more metaphorically, the white patriarch Jed was able to preserve his own image as a hero and 'good old boy' of Haven by literally sacrificing an immigrant family to the mines with the expectation that nobody would come looking for them. Whether you're an immigrant or whether you're a foster child, the system is saying 'we don't care about you.'"

And at the end, Alex tells Jed, "You want to look away and pretend the men you hurt weren't people. But I won't let you.” It's a deliberate stand against Jed (a white man)’s dehumanization of poor laborers, including her Chinese immigrant father. Jed isn't explicitly portrayed as a racist, but his actions come from a privileged, and subsequently racist and classist place. For me, it worked better than LiS2's portrayal of racism because it was subtler and more personal. Alex stands up against Jed out of a personal sense of justice for her brother (and her father).

Do I wish we had more? Yeah, absolutely. I wish Alex got to actually speak Mandarin or Vietnamese in the game because that's so rare in games, even though I knew that would be unrealistic because Erika Mori is Japanese. I wish the character artists had at least made a version of Alex and Gabe’s models without shoes, because it just didn’t look right to see them wear shoes in the house (especially in bed??) and even LiS2 had Sean and Daniel in their socks in some scenes. I wish Alex and Gabe talked more about their family while Gabe was still alive and Alex could have had that comfort of someone who misses the food and customs they used to celebrate. But like I said, one piece of media isn’t gonna please everyone. And Asian representation in particular is so tricky because not only is there not enough of it, but Asian Americans are so diverse and come from so many different backgrounds. Children of immigrants are going to feel more connected to their Asian heritage than third or fourth gen kids or mixed race kids for example. Everyone is going to have a different definition of “Asian culture” and “accurate representation.”

But on a meta-level, it really means so much to simply have an Asian face on the box of a major Western game ❤️ Like even just seeing the way Alex's eyes crinkle when she smiles or how other characters find her attractive (like Steph’s note during the LARP preferring Alex’s natural black hair), it feels so affirming. It’s incredible to see an Asian girl be called the hero of her own story, to see her succeed and fail and cry and laugh and fall in love and kiss another woman and be comfortable in her bisexuality. It acknowledges that the queer community includes Asians, that Asian girls can also be curvy, that Asian girls can and do struggle with mental health. And like Erika Mori said, Alex is a fully-realized character and that’s what makes her so compelling, first and foremost. She also has a strong moral compass and dreams and fears and is such an incredible role model for people of all backgrounds, and that’s what makes her identity as a queer woman of color so much more meaningful.

#life is strange true colors #listc #asian representation #answered asks #anon #alex chen #gabe chen #chen sibs #life is strange #true colors #true colours #lis: tc #life is strange 3 #my post

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weasleyswizardpleases · 4 years ago

Text

And the Living is Easy (Fred x reader)

Summary: You spend the first night of summer vacation getting into trouble with the Weasleys + Harry and Hermione. Fred x reader. Fluffy mischief mostly, but sex is discussed and implied.

Warnings/Notes: Light sexual content but not all out smut, alcohol, heights, language. I wrote this to be a stand alone, but I enjoyed it so much that it might become part of a loose series of slice of life-y reader x twins fics set at the burrow over the summer! ps i did not edit this at all after writing it at 2am so. uh

Summer at the Weasley’s is my favorite time of year. After my mother passed, you were tossed around from boarding school to boarding school, relative to relative, never really having a say in where you went, or with whom. But ever since becoming fast friends with Fred and George while repairing brooms for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you’ve pretty much been considered an honorary Weasley.

You stow your suitcases in the overhead and squeeze into a seat next to Fred and George. Across from you, Ron, Lee, and Harry are packed in.

“Do you reckon you’ll ever make it out to the burrow, Lee?” asks George pointedly.

“Yeah, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Mrs. Weasley’s hotcakes are out of this world.” Harry says.

“And there’s loads of space to play quidditch.” you say.

“And loads of secret spots not even Mum knows about where we can basically do whatever we like.” adds Fred.

“You know my mum will hardly let me out of her sight for a day. Merlin’s sake, she’s practically ass to elbow on me all summer.” Lee says, faking a pout. “Quit ribbing at me, would you? Or I’ll spend the summer in my room coming up with derogatory names to call you on the Quidditch pitch.”

Murmurs of “Come on, we’re only joking.” and “Fine, fine.” fill the packed compartment. You lift your rat Pansy up to the window to show him the scenery.

“Bet you’ve never seen the fine English countryside like this, eh Pansy?” you baby-talk at him, scratching his little noggin.

“You know that thing is never gonna talk back at you, right Y/N?” says Fred, rolling his eyes.

“You never know. Look what happened to Scabbers.” you say, wiggling you eyebrows. “This rat could also secretly be a creepy little pervert who watches me undress at night.”

“I suppose it isn’t unprecedented in the rat community,” agrees George. Ron scowls in disdain.

“That’s my pet we’re talking about!” he says, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

“Yeah, fine pet he was.” says Harry, grinning.

“I will say, Ron-” Fred begins, clearing his throat. “You’ll never find another like him.” He claps his little brother on the back and stands up, peering down the hallway. “Oi, it’s the trolley, look alive Georgie.” George rises and straightens his coat. The boys have been planning for ages to charm the trolley witch into selling their skiving snackboxes. They run off down the car towards her. You tuck Pansy back into his cage and watch the scenery go by yourself. Before you know it, you’re being shaken awake by Fred and George.

“C’mon, Dad is waiting!” says George.

“Got you some chocolate frogs, but that means you owe us one.” says Fred, shoving a wriggling paper bag into your hands. Delighted, you expertly open the bag, catch a frog, and slurp it up before it manages to escape.

“Tank -ou” you mumble, your mouth still full. Lugging your trunks over to meet Mr. Weasley, you smile with excitement. Every summer with the Weasleys is a blast, but you know this one will start off with a bang because last week Fred absconded with a jug of top shelf mead from Filch’s office. You’d all agreed that you needed it more, since you want to have fun and have no money, while Filch obviously dislikes fun and ostensibly has some amount of money squirreled away from all his groundskeeping or lurking or whatever his job is.

After greeting Molly, you and the twins bound up to their room- and, when you’re here, your room- pushing and shoving your way up the narrow stairwell. You toss your things down and throw yourself onto a bed, spreading your arms as if making a snow angel.

“Oh, boys, it is good to be home!” you say, laughing. Fred and George always joke that their mother likes you, Harry, and Hermione better than any of her own actual children, and you love teasing them about it.

“Speak for yourself, she’s already got that sending-us-to-de-gnome-the-

garden-while-hungover gleam in her eyes,” retorts George good-naturedly.

“And get your shoes off my bed! Mum will have all three of us beating out the rugs if she sees that.” says Fred. You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, baiting the boys into attempting to push you off the bed. You wind up making such a ruckus roughhousing that Hermione comes in looking concerned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You all three pause from your compromised position to look at her, you releasing a vise grip on Fred, George dropping your left leg, which he had been twisting violently.

“When did you get here?” you ask, running to hug her.

“Just apparated over, my parents would never forgive me if I didn’t at least drop by for dinner before practically moving here for the summer!” she replies, turning to greet the twins.

“Are you going to be participating in our little soiree tonight, ‘Mione?” asks George, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you three planning?” she asks sternly, stifling an excited smile.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you say.

“But don’t wear white shoes.” warns Fred. Hermione gives you all a funny look before running off to finish her greetings.

“Where are we going tonight, Freddie?” you ask, looking up at your tall friend. He gives you a cheeky glance.

“Oh, out by the bog. There’s a huge hill between there and the house, so we can make a fire and nobody will see.”

“And there’s a huge stand of trees and a pond between that spot and the neighbors’,” says George.

“You two have got it all figured out. And you’ve got the firewhiskey! What a night, what a night it shall be.” you say, your voice singsonging as you dance exaggeratedly.

“Too bad nobody invited any girls.” says Ron from the doorway. He’s been standing in the hallway looking in the mirror for some time now, fussing with his hair.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ginny shouts from her open door down the hall.

“YOU don’t count!” Ron replies.

“We know you’ve got someone else in mind, little brother.” George says, flicking Ron in the ear.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Fred agrees.

“You get all flustered when she corrects your grammar,” you say.

“And you let her braid your hair.” says Fred.

“And you-” begins George, but Ron interrupts, his face beet red.

“Shhhh! Buzz off you two, or I’ll start blabbing on about who you’re interested in as well.”

The twins exchange a somewhat threatened glance, but say nothing.

“That’s right, I’m not as dull as you lot like to think, thank you very much. I notice things. So let me alone or I’ll sing like a canary!” Ron finishes, turning back to the mirror for a final glance at his hair before trotting downstairs.

“You two have crushes?” you demand, turning to stare down the twins. Fred shrugs with his usual attitude but you notice a light blush spreading across each of their cheeks. You swat him across the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it? You motherfuckers.” You grab George by the collar. “George, tell me who it is! A crush, my god.” You throw your hands up in the air. They’re being super weird, so you decide to drop the subject. “When you snog every girl and half the boys in the school, between the two of you, you practically hold us all down to tell us the details but now you’ve got a crush and suddenly you’re like a couple of mimes.” You look each of them in the eyes, and both avoid your stare. “Fine! Don’t tell me.” You throw your hands up in mock anger and lead the charge downstairs to begin setting the table for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After dinner, you pass the evening playing cards and chatting until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley retire for the night. Then, you’re left with all your friends and Percy, who it has been agreed simply cannot know you’re sneaking out to drink in the woods, because he is a killjoy. Using a previously discussed maneuver, Hermione attempts to trick him into believing that she and Ginny are going to bed, hoping that he will get nervous about being bullied if left alone with you and the twins, and elect to follow them to bed soon after. However, Percy is in an unusually jovial mood, and so Ron and Harry are forced to retreat as well. As a last line of defense, you pretend to fall asleep on George’s shoulder, nuzzling into his sweater. When Percy gets up to go to the bathroom, you dash outside into the moonlit yard, covering your mouth so your giggles don’t give you away. You run to crouch behind the garden shed, doubled over with laughter.

“I thought he would never stop yapping.”

“God, how are you two related to that bore?”

“We can’t help it.” Fred says, bending to gather rocks from the ground.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Watch!” he raises his hand to throw a pebble at Ginny’s window, but you grab his wrist.

“Have you lost the plot? Percy will hear! And probably your mum too, with your aim. I’ve got a better idea,” you say, peeking around the garden shed while gesturing for the boys to stay put. You pop out of the shed with a dusty, rickety broom.

“Does this thing still work?” you ask.

“Well enough,” says Fred, getting a running start and jumping on the broom. Wobbling a bit, he sails up to Ginny’s window and confers with the girls, then moves on to Ron’s window, where he perches on the sill, one foot dangling out the window.

Beside you, you’re aware of George’s presence beside you in the cool, sticky night.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmurs, elbowing you gently. “How’d you even know that thing was in there?”

“Lucky guess. I mean, with a family full of Quidditch players, there’s bound to be a broom lying about someplace.”

Fred jumps down onto the broom and turns a few experimental loop de loops overhead before nearly falling and coming to a shaky landing near your feet.

“That one belongs on the rubbish heap, honestly,” he says, laughing as he tosses the old thing aside.

“Oh, sure, blame it on the broom,” you tease.

He’s soon followed by Ginny and Hermione on Ginny’s broom. They glide down and come to a halt next to you, stepping down gracefully.

“How are Harry and Ron going to get out? They’d have to go right by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, unless Harry has his broom up there with him, but I think I saw it in the foyer.” says Hermione, looking at Fred worriedly.

“Well, err, I told them to climb down,” says Fred earnestly.

“What?!” says Hermione. “They’ll be loud as bison, besides probably breaking their necks.”

“It’s not my fault they’re too dumb to pass their apparation O.W.L.S! They’ll be fine.”

As he finishes his sentence, Ron’s window slides open and Harry’s head pops out. He lowers what appears to be a rope made of sheets and blankets tied together. Hermione’s brow furrows as she watches, helpless, while Ron artlessly slips one leg out the window, before even checking to see that the “rope” is nowhere near long enough to reach the ground. Ginny giggles, biting her lip when she sees Hermione’s distress.

“Do something!” Hermione hisses, nudging her. Ginny groans and soars over to boost Ron onto the back of her broom, going back to do the same for Harry.

“Shite! The firewhiskey,” you whisper, smacking your forehead. Everyone lets out a collective groan, but before you can send someone back up to hunt down the alcohol, Ginny opens her backpack, revealing the gleaming jug. Everyone cheers, but then quickly realizes that loudly cheering may have blown your cover. Fred and George scurry off into the brush and you all follow them down a lightly trod path through the countryside, eventually reaching the open bank of a large, murky pond. This is a spot you’ve never been to before, probably because it’s a fair stretch away from the house, and apparently from any civilization at all.

Hermione quickly conjures a large fire, creating a pocket of warmth in the chilly night air. You lean against a large rock and shiver when the cool stone brushes the back of your neck. Ginny pulls out the firewhiskey and hands it to Fred, who pops the cork, shouting with glee before knocking back a sip and passing it to George, who passes it to you. The familiar sickly sweet liquid burns your throat and warms your stomach, and you feel your (already barely existent) inhibitions begin melting away.

Before long, Ron suggests that you all play a game, and you run through your options: truth or dare, spin the bottle, a wizarding game you’ve never heard of, and hide and go seek. Hermione refutes hide and go seek on the basis of safety, and Fred refutes spin the bottle on the basis of the fact that four out of six of you are siblings. Not everyone brought their wands, so you can’t play the magic game, and you’re left with truth or dare as the apparent winner, which you were rooting for anyway, because you want to see what you can get the twins to do. It almost makes you wish Percy was here so you could put him in a compromising position, but knowing him, he’d find a way to make walking on hot coals boring.

“I’ll start, I’ll start!” you volunteer, looking around the circle. “My first victim will beeeee…” you look at Hermione, who cringes nervously, then spin around to point at Harry. “Harry Potter. What will it be, Mr. Potter, truth or dare?” you ask.

Harry shrugs. “Hmm.. I’ll do.. Dare, why not?” he replies.

“Alright Harry, I dare you tooooo.... Oh, easy. I dare you to smack Ron every time he says something you think is stupid tonight. And be honest, or we’ll smack you,” you say. The twins nod in agreement.

“That’s not fair! That’s barely a real dare!” protests Ron. You raise an eyebrow at Harry, who turns and gives his friend a good wallop.

“Alright Harry, your turn.”

You play for nearly an hour, all the while passing the bottle lazily between you, until everyone’s good and tipsy on the strong liquor. Several good dares are exchanged: Fred is dared to give you a lap dance, which he does with gusto and an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You dare Ginny to race you across the pond and back, and you both strip down to your skivvies and plunge into the chilly water. Ginny wins, of course, but you just wanted an excuse for a swim. Fred lends you his cloak, patting it onto your shoulders to dry them before you pull your pants back on. George dares Ron to walk back to the house and get food, which he reluctantly agrees to after everyone bullies him into it. By the time he gets back with a basket of pastries and jam, you’ve transitioned to mainly truths, because the well of dares has run dry.

When it’s Hermione’s turn to ask Fred, she blushingly asks if he’s lost his virginity.

“What, do you all think I’ve snogged every girl we know without scaring? Have a little faith, please.”

“Clever, but that’s not an answer!” slurs Hermione, pointing at him and grinning. “Have you actually had sex before, or do you just talk a big game?”

“Well, have you?” you ask, laughing as he tries to bluster out an answer.

“”Course I have. Ask anybody. Everybody must think George and I are the male sluts of the century, the way you people talk.”

“Still not an answer!” you say, looking at him mischievously.

“How’s this for an answer, then?” he retorts, pulling you to his waist and kissing you on the lips melodramatically, throwing you up against the rock, practically fucking but for the clothes. What’s probably thirty seconds of kissing at most feels like an hour. Everyone goes “Oooooh!” and when he finally lets you go you’re flabbergasted, but you recover your senses.

“Point taken, then. Alright Freddie, your turn,” you say, straightening your clothes and trying not to look like you enjoyed that.

“I dare Hermione to let us play hide and seek, for fuck’s sake,” he says, lazily.

“Ugh! I might be drunk but I’m not letting anyone stumble around alone in the pitch black plastered out of your mind. Ask me a real question!”

“What if we weren’t alone?” Harry asks, looking around. “I mean, we could go in pairs or little groups. Like team hide and seek, basically.”

“I call Fred and George!” you cry, throwing your arms around their sweaty necks.

“Fine, but please be careful. And everyone should be on a team with at least one person with a wand,” says Hermione, who teams up with Ron. That leaves Harry and Ginny on the last team.

George produces his wand and casts an illumination spell.

“Not it!” You shout, immediately echoed by Ginny.

“Alright, we’ll count to 50” says Hermione, but Harry and George protest until they finally agree to 3 minutes.

Fred tears off into the woods and you and George follow, bushes thwacking you in the face, vines snagging at your ankles. You break through the brush into a field, panting, and stop for a break.

“Where are we going?” you ask, looking around. “And where are we?”

“No idea!” Fred says gleefully.

“What about over there?” George nods towards a patch of grass and trees down in a glenn. You lope down hill through high grass and crash to a halt in the stand of trees, crouching low. Fred huddles next to you and George clambers clumsily into one of the trees, flattening himself into one of its crooks.

You can feel your stomach churning after your run, but you manage to successfully push down the acrid taste rising in your throat. Above you, you hear George belch, and just manage to slip out of the way as he spits a pitiful glob of vomit to the ground.

“Oi, we’re down here, you lout,” hisses Fred, ducking.

“Look at the state of you,” you drawl, bumping into Fred as you readjust around George’s vomit. He groans from his spot up in the tree and lies back down sleepily. To your surprise, you feel the urge to pull Fred closer rather than pushing him away. The earthy smell of the forest floor calms your stomach, and you find your mind wandering to his lips, his hands on your waist and neck. Buzzing with drunken impulsivity, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and pull him to sit beside you. He looks surprised, but readily slouches against the tree trunk next to you. You can feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. The air is still and cool in that settled way characteristic of the night.

Overhead, you think you can hear George beginning to snore.

“Freddie-” you begin, but before you can say a word, his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair. You push him down and roll over so that you’re straddling him, gripping his jaw in one hand as you kiss him, hard, then gently. His lips are softer and more relaxed than they were when he kissed you earlier, and his body less certain. There’s no false bravado in him now, and you bite his lip gently, your tongues barely batting together. You reach down to unzip his pants but he pulls back.

“Y/N- I- Look, I may have lied earlier,” he says, his face flush with desire and embarrassment. You look at him quizzically, your drunken mind not connecting all the dots.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t… done this before. I’ve only ever kissed. Although I’ve done quite a lot of that.” he says quietly. You blink.

“Oh. Oh! You total freak. Why go to all that trouble to convince everyone you have?”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to kiss you?”

This shuts you up. He pulls you back down to kiss you again, this time on the cheek, on the forehead, the neck.

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” you say carefully, brushing a bead of sweat from his forehead.

“No… no, I’m ready. I want this now,” he says, tugging at your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it into the grass, the game of hide and seek forgotten. Let the shirt be a warning flag to any nosy passerby. Fred kisses across your chest.

“Freddie, we’re drunk,” you remind him, your breathing growing heavier as his tongue flicks across your nipple.

“I want you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck in between kisses. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he says. You kiss him in reply, and move again to unzip his pants. You feel his hard member ready to burst out of his jeans, and it sends a thrill through you.

You had considered that you might one day wind up with Fred or George, and honestly, you had figured it would be on some less-than-sober whim like this, but you never really pictured it. You certainly never imagined Fred like this, innocent and tame, hoping for someone else to take the lead.

“Will you show me how?”

“Yes,” you breathe your reply into his mouth.

“Will you go slow?” he asks sweetly, his coy submissiveness sending tremors through your body.

“Yes. Come closer.”

In the morning, you groggily open your eyes at the sound of birds chirping. You sit up, your head throbbing, and look around. Above you and a few feet to your right, George is sleeping soundly on his belly in the flat convergence of an oak tree’s branches. To your left, shirtless and smeared with dirt, is Fred curled on top of his cloak, also fast asleep.

“Guess they gave up on finding us,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair to smooth it into place. You remember what happened last night well enough, although some parts are cloudier than others, and you don’t remember deciding to fall asleep at all. You suppose it just happened at some point. Your heart beats faster, wondering if you and Fred will be an item after this, or if he’ll want to keep it quiet, or if you just won’t talk about it. You’re not sure what you want, yet. It’s still purple pre-dawn in the countryside, the sun not quite peeking over the horizon yet.

You know you enjoyed yourself, and you adore Fred- as a friend, certainly. As something more? Maybe. You brush away your anxieties and trust that you’ll settle things when you’re less groggy. Suddenly, it dawns on you that you’ve got to get back to the house before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wake up and notice your absence. You stand up as though the ground caught fire, kicking at Fred and shouting at George to get down.

You fetch your shirt from a nearby bush, and pluck a twig from Fred’s hair as he looks up, dazed.

“God, my head,” he says, squinting up at you. “What the hell time is it?”

“Never mind that, you’ll have worse than a headache if we don’t get back to the house by like, yesterday.”

“Merlin!” George exclaims, perking up and basically falling from his perch to the ground. Recovering he stands up, taking his surroundings in. “Hold on, what the hell happened to you, Fred? Where’s your shirt?”

“No time for all that, go!” you say, shoving George in the direction you suppose the house is in. You muster as fast a pace as you can and follow him, Fred scrambling to gather his cloak and tee shirt before catching up with you. With George’s back to both of you, you exchange a goofy grin and a wave of relief runs through you. He obviously doesn’t consider last night a mistake, either. You slip your hand into his and make your way into the breaking dawn.

144 notes · View notes

kiame-sama · 5 years ago

Note

How would the main four react to meeting Killua’s real mother?

Apparently I have no self control and this evolved from just headcannons into a full fic.

I regret nothing.

~~~~~~~~

Killua stood with his hands in his pockets as he looked over at the rag-tag group of people he had come to know. He felt a kind of warmth in his chest that he had only ever felt around his mother.

They came to help him.

Friends were an unusual thing for an assassin to have, but Killua couldn't be happier to see them again, especially Gon. He was thrilled to have a friend his age and even though Gon wasn't as strong as him, he looked forward to traveling with his new companion.

He was about to join the group and leave when the sound of heels on the floor made him frown deeply. He knew exactly who it was and he wanted nothing to do with her, especially given the fact she would likely hurt Gon and the others. He turned to glare at the door where the sound was coming from, tensing and ready to fight the imposter.

When the door opened he was already tempted to leap at her and rip her throat out, feeling hate bubble up in his chest. His youngest sibling stood by her side and he wanted to scoff, knowing that the imposter was only a cheap stand-in for the real thing.

Kurapika, Leorio, and Gon were surprised to see the woman arrive, curious about who she was and what she wanted. Kurapika faintly remembered Illumi talking with Killua during the final part of the hunter exam. He had said that Killua had attacked his 'mother' before he fled from his home.

Leorio figured that the woman was pretty and she wasn't dressed as one of the butlers, so she must have been Killua's mother. Gon stood and stared at the woman, unlike the others he remembered that conversation with Killua about his mom. That his real mother was locked away and being held captive by his father, so this woman must have been the imposter who pretended to be Killua's mother.

"Kill, there you are. I wondered where you had gone off to after you spoke with Silva. You still have more torture training to go through."

"No."

"Excuse you?"

"I said 'no'. I'm leaving here with Gon and not coming back!"

"Do NOT speak to your mother that way!"

"You aren't my mother! You will never be my mother! Mom is kind and gentle and better than an imposter like you!"

Surprise swept through the room to hear Killua snap in such a way at Kikyo, since he usually played along with the lie. Kikyo didn't expect such words from Killua as it was a rather big secret of the identity of his true mother. A good portion of the butlers didn't even know the truth and usually Silva's five children fiercely kept the secret safe due to their love for their real mother.

"How dare you-?"

"No! How dare you! Stop saying you're my mother and pretending to care about me. You're just a liar pretending to be her!"

"Tch, Kalluto, do you hear this nonsense?"

Kikyo glanced down at the black-haired boy at her side, surprised to see that even Kalluto refused to look at her. It was true, she wasn't their mother and she never would be, but that didn't mean she didn't care for them. She did her job to train them and raise them in her dear friend's place, but the life of an assassin was a brutal one and she had to be firm with them.

It was clear there was a mounting tension between everyone in the room. Killua was prepared to leap at the imposter if she made the slightest movement to retaliate. The tense moment was shattered by Gotoh, who had been whispered information by one of the other butlers.

"Enough. Master Silva says that Master Killua and his friends should wait here."

"Why would we wait, Gotoh??"

"Because Lady (y/n) wants to see you before you leave."

~~~~~~~~

You sat on the floor, staring outside with a forlorn look as you usually did. Even if you had accepted your place by Silva's side, you still longed for the outdoors. To stand in the rays of the setting sun and to feel the gentle wind play with your hair.

The sound of the door opening made you look over your shoulder at Silva as he entered the room. You were curious to see a small cut on his thumb as it was hard to injure him in the slightest.

"Welcome back..."

"Killua is leaving."

"W-what..? When?"

"Now."

"Wait! But I- I didn't get to say goodbye..."

You looked down at your hands in your lap, feeling sorrow wash over you. You knew that Killua wished to leave and travel the world with his friends and you encouraged him to do so, knowing how it felt to be locked up in the estate. But you still had wanted to talk to him one last time before he left. He was your son after all. The news cut deeply in your soft heart, trying to fight back tears knowing that Silva would be jealous.

To your surprise, Silva kneeled in front of you, gently gripping your chin and making you look up at him. He knew how much your children meant to you and how much pain you felt to be away from them. He didn't want to share you with anyone, even his sons, but he knew the sorrowful state you would enter at the knowledge of Killua's departure.

He wanted you to be nowhere near the white-haired child any more than you had to be, but this was different. Killua was departing for an undetermined amount of time, and when he had run away prior, you had fallen into a deep depression. Silva didn't want you to be in that much pain, even if it meant he had you all to himself.

"Get up."

"... Why?"

"Because we're going to go see Killua before he leaves."

~~~~~~~~

"Wait, mom's coming here?? But what about them? Father is gonna kill them if they see mom!"

"Master Silva said he would not harm your friends and that Lady (y/n) quite desperately wanted to be able to say farewell before you left."

"He's gonna let outsiders see mom?"

"Yes, but you know how Master Silva is, especially with Lady (y/n). Perhaps you should warn your friends before they arive."

Killua was stunned. He had no idea that his father would let his mother come and say goodbye to him, let alone with strangers nearby. But Gotoh was right, Killua needed to warn them as much as he could before his parents arrived, knowing his father would slaughter them if he became jealous.

Gotoh dismissed the other butlers from the room, being one of the few to know just how serious of a topic it was. He also knew that Silva would slaughter the other butlers if he found out any information on (y/n) had been divulged to those of such a low rank. As soon as they left and closed the doors he glanced at Kikyo who was equally stunned.

"My Lady, it would be wise if you left as well."

Kikyo didn't say a word or put up any fuss, quickly leaving with Kalluto.

"Wait, you're mom's coming here? I thought you said she was always locked up?"

"She is. I can't remember a time father ever let her leave her room unless he absolutely needed to."

Kurapika and Leorio shared a glance, wondering just what was going on. Killua made it clear to them that his father was dangerous and his arrival meant they should be as prepared as possible to not anger him.

"Killua, can you tell us what's going on so we know what to do?"

"Father... He has kept my mom imprisoned here for 28 years."

Leorio recoiled in shock, eyes wide and frightened at the idea of keeping someone imprisoned for so long. He couldn't help but blurt out his protests at the mere concept.

"Wait, if she's a prisoner, why aren't we helping her leave!?"

"Don't ever say that again or you'll be killed."

"But-"

"Father is obsessed with mom. He doesn't like anyone looking at her or talking to her other than himself. He barely even lets my siblings and I visit her. If he hears you even implied trying to set her free, he will torture you to death."

Leorio swallowed nervously, staring wide-eyed at Killua, wondering just what kind of monster Killua's father was. Kurapika was similarly worried about meeting Killua's father, having heard of the Zoldycks and their terrifying strength everywhere he went.

"Don't stare at my mom, father will be upset. Don't talk to her unless she directly speaks to you. Don't approach her at all, not even one step. Let me do the talking and don't try to argue with me or father. Stay where you are and don't move more than you have to, or father will think you're threatening her. If father asks you a question, immediately respond and keep your answer as short as possible. If you do talk to my mom, keep it short and be as respectful as you can or father will kill you."

Leorio was almost shaking at this point, wondering what the hell he and the others had gotten themselves into. It seemed like anything other than breathing would result in death. It was clear to all three that being able to even see Killua's mother was nothing short of a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

Gon had desperately wanted to meet Killua's mom ever since Killua told him about her during the Hunter Exam. She was the reason Killua wanted to be strong. She was the reason Killua had even wanted to be a Hunter in the first place. Some part of him wanted to experience how kind she was, as Killua had only spoken positive things about her.

He was shaking in fear and excitement, wondering just what kind of a person she was.

~~~~~~~~

You relaxed in Silva's arms as he carried you through the maze of hallways, not bothering to try and remember any of them. He was actually letting you speak to Killua before he left. He didn't even demand payment for allowing this to happen.

"Killua's friends are there too, right?"

"Yes."

"... Are you going to hurt them?"

"I will if they go near you."

"But... Isn't his one friend, Gon, the same age as him?"

"So he says."

"Silva... I need you to promise me you won't hurt the boy."

You saw Silva's eyes narrow as he continued to walk, refusing to agree to your plea. If it was true that this 'Gon' as the same age as Killua, then he was only a child. Your heart still held fast to your maternal instincts and that meant you wanted no harm to befall Killua or his young friend. He had spoken so highly of the other boy that you knew they were already close and they would forge an amazing friendship.

"Silva?"

"..."

"Silva."

"..."

"Stop!"

He paused in the hallway, clearly still wanting to ignore you by not looking you in the eyes, but still showing he was listening. His grip on you was a gentle one especially given the fact that your spine was still tender. You knew he wouldn't respond to you unless you did something to gain his complete attention.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you were able to move to a sitting position in his arms. With one hand against his cheek you turned his head towards you, his eyes locking with your own. Before he could inquire what you were doing you quickly pressed your lips to his, giving him no room to argue. It didn't take long for him to melt into the kiss, closing his eyes and reciprocating the gentle affection he craved.

When you broke the kiss, you held yourself as close to him as you possibly could, looking into his deep blue eyes. He almost growled in pleasure as you gently threaded your fingers through his hair.

"Please... Please promise me you won't hurt him. He's not a threat to anyone here, he's only a child."

"..."

"Silva, you know I'm your's. No one is going to take me away from you, especially not a child. Please, just let me have this one thing."

"Fine."

"Not good enough. I need you to swear to me that you won't hurt him."

"... I swear I won't hurt the boy."

"Thank you."

You settled back down in his arms, still staying pressed against him as he began walking once more. You knew Killua's friend would be safe as Silva never broke a promise or something he has sworn to. It was something that held true for the entire family; never break an oath, a promise, or swear to something you don't intend to abide by.

Silva had said they were in the smaller building that was separate from the main estate down in the valley. It was where most of the staff and butlers slept and it was the only place 'visitors' were allowed. You were excited because getting to the outter building required going outside and you looked forward to feeling the sunshine on your skin.

You wondered what Killua's friends were like, only hearing about them through his stories of the Hunter Exam. It was exciting to you, seeing as you don't really meet new people due to Silva's jealousy.

The moment Silva carried you out into the sun you closed your eyes and relaxed, soaking in the warmth. How long had it been? The only sunlight you got was the bit that came in your small window, and even then it wasn't very much.

The gentle warmth of the sun had you completely calm, a small smile set on your lips. You could practically feel Silva's stare as he observed you in the sunlight, seeing the way the rays filtered through your hair and made a gentle shine around you. Perhaps he would take you outside more often once all of this was over... Only with him, of course.

~~~~~~~~

Killua was practically a mess with stress, though he seemed relaxed and calm on the outside. He knew that there was a large danger that came with interacting with his mother, but he also wanted to see her again before he left. She was kind and soft and everything his father was not.

He immediately looked at the door on the far side of the room as it began to open, his entire body tensed. Gon, Leorio, and Kurapika stood equally tense, seeing a beyond intimidating man slowly enter the room. It was like seeing a true predator for the first time. That rush of ice-cold fear as they stared in amazement and worry at the intimidating man.

He was obviously strong and clearly would be able to kill them in moments if he felt like it. His eyes were cold and almost hateful as he looked at the three in turn. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was a man who feared nothing and knew everything feared him. He was completely silent and made no noise when he walked into the room.

They were so busy staring in fear at the frightening male that they didn't even realize he was holding someone. She was cradled gently in his arms as she peaked over her shoulder at them, warm (e/c) eyes gleaming back at their stares. There was a moment of silence before the giant man moved to gently set down the woman, clearly taking great care to not hurt or jostle her in any way.

Now they could see her in her entirety, they were at a loss for words. She had a sweet smile and an equally soft demeanour. Her (h/c) locks framed her beautiful face as she looked over them, her gaze resting on each of them for just a moment before landing on Killua.

"So pretty..."

Gon murmured half to himself and half to no one in particular, completely entranced by the lovely woman before him. Not even a moment later Killua was staring at Gon in despair, knowing how his father would react even to tuose soft words. As the dangerous man prepared to end the little rat, a soft hand rest on his arm, compelling him to look down at you.

"You swore..."

He wanted to snap and growl and just kill the intruder that dare look at you, but instead he angrily stood-down. If looks could kill, Gon would be dust at that point. Only then did the three realize just how dangerous the situation they were in truly was. One movement, one word, one false step, and they would be dead before they could even realize they messed up.

"Mom..."

You smiled at the soft sound of your son's voice, opening your arms in invitation. He cautiously approached, glancing at his father occasionally before sinking into your warm embrace. It didn't take even a minute before he was relaxing in your arms as you gently ran your fingers through his hair.

"Are these your friends, Kill?"

"Yeah. They came to see me and see if I was okay."

"Why wouldn't you be?"

"Illumi made me fail the Hunter Exam and they were worried about me."

"They sound like wonderful friends."

You smiled down at your son, always aware of the constant weight of Silva's warm hand on your shoulder. Glancing up at the other men in the room, you easily picked out which one was Gon. He was a scrappy looking kid with spiky black hair and sweet brown eyes. It almost looked like he was jealous or even longing for the warm hug you were giving Killua.

You locked eyes with the young boy and held out your hand in a friendly gesture to him. If you were the one inviting him over, perhaps Silva would be less angered by it.

"You can come over here..."

You could almost hear Silva's protest as he let out a low noise that was close to a growl. It seemed Killua was on edge as well as he looked up at you, lovely blue eyes filled with worry.

"Mom... I don't think that's a good idea..."

"Why? I want to meet him. You talk so highly of him and your other friends that it seems silly to not let them say anything."

"Mom, I know father doesn't like strangers near-"

"Nonsense. They aren't strangers if they're your friends. Besides, I know he won't hurt me. He seems like too sweet of a boy to do something like that. And, I know you and your father won't let anyone hurt me."

You glanced at your husband with a small frown, seeing his eyes filled with anger and hate at the young boy that stood across from you. He glanced at you for a moment as you returned the stare, not at all frightened of him since he not only swore to leave Gon alone, but he would never intentionally hurt you.

"Right, Silva? You'll always keep me safe."

"... Always."

"See? It's fine."

You looked back at the black-haired boy and smiled, gesturing once more for him to walk over to you. He hesitantly moved closer, glancing at Killua and then at Silva nervously as if waiting for either one to stop him. When he finally stood in front of you, you slightly crouched, looking at him.

"Hello, I'm (y/n), Killua's mom. He spoke very highly of you when he came home."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Gon."

"He's never brought home a friend before, so I'm sure you two are already fairly close. Please be nice to him, okay? And tell him to call his worrying mother every once in a while."

"I will."

You smiled, noticing a curious gleam in the young boy's eyes. It wasn't hard to tell that Killua would get along wonderfully with Gon and they would likely be inseparable friends.

Kurapika was still standing rigidly next to Leorio, knowing that he was being watched by the dangerous man Killua introduced as his father. Gon was right, (y/n) was a beautiful woman and it was clear how much she cared for Killua. It was also clear that death awaited anyone who dare approach without permission.

Leorio would admit, (y/n) was gorgeous. If she weren't married and being guarded by a giant murderous monster of a man, he would try his luck. But there was no way in hell Leorio was gonna even move so much as a hair's width closer than he was. It took all of his energy to stand there under the assassin's gaze and not turn tail to run.

"Killua, keep your friends safe, and keep yourself safe, okay?"

"I will, I've already promised father I would."

"Oh?"

You glanced at Silva in surprise, feeling a bubbling warmth in your chest. You didn't know the circumstances that had lead up to it, but it all made sense to you now as to why Silva had a cut on his thumb. He must have made a blood oath with Killua to remain loyal to his friends and family.

"I'll miss you, Killua..."

"I'll miss you too, mom."

After one final hug, that you never wanted to end, Killua pulled away before he and Gon walked to the other two. They all cautiously began to leave, Killua pausing to glance back at you.

"Bye, mom."

"Bye..."

You tried not to cry as you watched him go, hearing a sudden voice call out to you. It was Gon, he was smiling back at you and waving, making your gentle heart squeeze.

"Bye! I'll make sure Killua calls! It was nice meeting you!"

You couldn't help but wave back at the young boy, watching your son depart with friends at his side. When you could no longer see them, you turned back to Silva, returning to his side. It seemed he wanted to say something, perhaps chastise you for allowing someone new so close to you, but the words died in his throat as you wrapped your arms around him. You pressed close to him and gently nuzzled his chest, feeling him relax under your gentle touch.

"Thank you, Silva. Thank you for letting me say goodbye... I love you."

He let out a low rumbling hum of content at your affectionate behavior towards him, content to drown in your soft embrace. He slowly gripped your sides, gently lifting you back up into his arms. Your legs on either side of him and your arms resting gently over his shoulders, you let your forehead rest in the crook of his neck as you lazily ran your fingers through his hair. He let out a soft noise that was akin to a whine as you continued to cling to him and be affectionate towards him.

He was your captor, but it wasn't just your body that was captivated by him. Your heart, your mind, your affections, finally they were all his. He had all of you.

"Silva?"

"Hm?"

"Can we adopt Gon?"

#fem reader #yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #request #fanfic #hxh #yandere silva x reader #yandere silva #daddy silva #silva x reader #hxh silva

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castiel-barnes · 3 years ago

Text

MYTHASOURS

Pairing: Ice Hockey! Din Djarin x Reader.

Summary: Yourself and Din adopt a little one, who Din teaches to skate. Ice Hockey AU.

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: Slight mentions of injuries. Soft Din. Swearing mentions.

A/N: This is based of @shanediomorrissey Hockey Din AU fanart, which is absolutely amazing and you should totally check out their work.

Tags: @phoenixhalliwell @scribbledghost

Your husband had been part of the Ice Hockey World since he was very young. That was one of the first things, his adopted father taught him. Now he was on a professional team, in the Intergalactic Hockey League (IHL). His team.

The Mythasours.

One of the best teams in the entire IHL. Home to the late Jango Fett, who's career ended far too soon in a deadly incident. After the incident, the Fett memorial was created and gifted to the Most Valuable Player.

You felt Din move in the double bed, his arms detaching from your waist where they had been for the majority of the night. It must've been 05:35am. Run time. His routine was pretty much the same every day. Run. Shower. Get breakfast ready for you both. Gym and then the training session at the rink.

You groaned as you felt his warmth leave you, and you wrapped the blanket up around around your head.

"Hey Cyar’ika, it's gonna be a good day at the rink today. Wanna come?" He asked as he got his running clothes on,

"What's happening at the rink?" You groaned peaking an eye open. You smiled slightly as you saw the V cut at the bottom of his abs.

"There's uh a charity thing going on today. We're teaching kids from the orphanage, how to skate and play. I just thought you'd like to come with, you're usually really good with kids." Din explained giving you a small kiss to your head,

"Yeah, I'll come with. I like watching you teach little ones." You replied smiling tiredly. You laid in bed for five more minutes, before getting out and showering then changing into warm clothes. No matter what time of year it is. The rink is always cold.

For a change today, you made breakfast and let Din take his time in the shower and getting ready. After breakfast, you packed a few snacks into your bag.

You always took a book with you when the boys where in the gym, although you did sneak glances at Din every now and then.

Before the kids from the orphanage came into the rink, The Mythasours and their opposing team The Twin Sun's skated onto the ice.

As you and the other sat down, you over heard a girl 'bragging' about being Din Djarins girl to her friends? Oh you could not have this.

"Excuse me, I think you should reconsider before you brag about something you're not." You stated standing up,

"And who might you might you be?" She asked in a sneering way.

"I just so happen to be his other half." You replied calmly,

"Oh yeah? Then prove it. Otherwise your just another bitch who wants attention from my hubby." She tried to continue to pretend.

"I'm Y/n Djarin. I'm married to Din Djarin, the Captain of the Mythasours and our anniversary date is March 7th. Now why don't you go before I have to call security." You stated slightly seething, and standing straight to gain height advantage.

At this she backed off and went to the other side of the rink, whilst her friends abandoned her. Din witnessed this whole confrontation, and you went over to him as he called you over.

"What was that about baby?" Din asked holding your hand gently,

"Just another fan who thinks they can get what they want. Don't worry about it din." You replied giving his cheek a sweet kiss.

"Hey look the kids have arrived." You continued smiling. Din turned and smiled as all the kids filed in. He noticed out of all the kids with black, brunette, ginger and blonde hair. There was a kid with white hair, who was slightly smaller than the rest and seemed to shy away from the rest.

As the kids oogled at the professional hockey players, each player got to know the kids individually. Din decided to speak to the little white haired kid that had caught his eye.

"Mr Djarin." Peli Motto stated smiling at him. "It's so nice to see you again." She continued,

"Please Peli, there isn't much for formalities on the ice. Please call me Din." Din replied smiling awkwardly.

"Very well Din. I see you spotted our youngest here today." Peli said as the little white haired kid looked around scared,

"Yeah, what's the little guys name?" Din asked curious.

"Grogu. He is a selective mute we think. He hasn't talked since we got him at the orphanage." Peli explained with a sad look,

"Just sad that a cute one like that can be left with no parents." Peli continued.

"Do you mind if I.. like if I go over to him?" Din asked,

"Of course I don't mind. It's what we came here for." She smiled. Din smiled and skated over to Grogu, he wasn't really standing with anyone else. As he got to Grogu, Din kneeled down and smiled.

"Hi Grogu, my name is Din. How are you today?" Din asked,

All he got from the considerably small kid was a shrug and a nervous glance. But it was better than nothing.

"Do you wanna learn how to skate?" Din asked, at that Grogus eyes lit up like seeing a festival for the first time. Grogu nodded and smiled, causing Din to smile. You watched as Din helped the child, putting the skates on and trying them properly.

Grogu was a little hesitant at first to go on the ice, but Din was there to help him.

"It's okay buddy. I'm gonna help keep you steady." Din said quietly to Grogu. Grogu looked up at him, his big green eyes finally losing some of the fear he had earlier. Din smiled and held Grogus hands, as Din skated backwards.

"You're doing so good buddy. Do you wanna be a professional one day?" Din praised,

Grogu nodded and continued to concentrate on keeping balanced. Din smiled brightly and looked at you for a brief moment, and you were smiling right back at him. After a while the kids had their break, and watched the professionals skate around for a bit.

"I see you got a new best friend baby." You stated giving Din a kiss,

"Yeah, his name is Grogu and he's a mute. But he is so kriffing adorable." Din replied smiling ear to ear.

"He's adorable, you two look so cute together." You said quietly, earning a blush from Din.

After hours, it was finally time to go back to the orphanage. For Din, letting Grogu go back felt wrong. Grogu reminded him of himself when he was about that age, before his adoptive father found him.

When the two of you got home. You could feel something slightly off with Din.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked wrapping your arms around him,

"I just feel kinda bad for leaving Grogu at the orphanage." Din said quietly burying his head into the crook of your neck.

"Well baby, we could always maybe adopt him. If you wanted. Cause seeing you and him earlier. I honestly couldn't of thought anything better." You suggested nervously,

Din whipped round with one of the biggest smiles on his face.

"Really?" He asked, trying to gauge if you were serious or not,

"Yeah. I mean, you'd make a great dad. Watching you with Grogu was amazing. Maybe we could speak to Peli." You replied. Din continued to smile and hugged you tightly.

The next day, you and Din went to the orphanage. You could tell he was nervous but that was a good thing. After some discussions with Peli, Din went by himself to Grogus room.

"Hey buddy." Din smiled kneeling down,

Grogu turned around and smiled brightly. His white hair tousled slightly.

"What do you think about coming home with me and Y/n?" Din asked,

Grogus face went into an expression of disbelief. He nodded and launched his tiny body into Dins. Din laughed as he hugged Grogu back, and helped pack the few belongings Grogu had. The two boys came out into the main area, Grogus small hand in Dins. And the two of them smiling brightly.

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

Time skip:

Grogu had been your adopted son for many months now. His skating ability increasing significantly, and starting to become one of the best on the kids Death Watch team.

9 times out of 10, Grogu watched Dins games.

This one game though was very different. The Twin Sun's had a new player. And even Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett had their queries about this player.

The game was heading towards a victory for the Mythasours. And this didn't settle right for the new comer. He saw his opportunity as Din skated forward with the puck, and the new comer shoved Din into the boards.

Din grunted falling to the floor hard, hitting his head against the ice. The game was called to a stop and IG-11 the medic, came onto the ice.

Boba went up to the new comer and got right in his face.

"What the fuck do you think you were doing newbie?" Boba growled,

"I was stopping him. Just cause he is the mighty 'Din djarin' doesn't mean he has my respect." The new comer explained. Boba was about to punch him, until Cobb stopped him.

"It's not worth it Boba." Cobb whispered.

Din was helped out, and Grogu was extremely upset trying to follow.

"I know buddy, I know. We'll go see your buir in a moment I promise. He's gonna be fine buddy." You croaked out trying not be scared for Grogu.

The two of you followed the ambulance to the hospital. And waited in the waiting room for almost an hour. You sat with Grogu and tried to distract him for a while.

Finally the doctor came out, and you stood up with Grogu in your arms.

"Is he alright?" You asked quickly,

"He only has a mild concussion and some slight bruising on his side. We'll have to keep him observation for the next few hours, you're able to go see him if you would like." The doctor spoke, showing the way to Din's room.

Din opened his eyes slightly, and smiled as he saw the two of you.

"Hey baby, how you feeling?" You asked quietly,

"My head hurts. A lot." Din replied. He smiled at Grogu and watched Grogus hands as his signed.

'Are you okay papa?' Grogu signed,

"I will be buddy I promise. Its just a part of hockey." Din replied ruffling Grogus white hair.

After a few hours Din was able to go home, and get sleep. For the next few weeks, Din rested making sure to listen to the doctors.

He eventually went back to the rink, slowly getting back into the swing of things. Din attended a lot of Grogus training sessions, sitting on the sidelines giving him tips. He did stay for the Mythasours practice and watched.

When Din finally returned playing, everyone including Boba and Cobb.

"Din! My Vod how are you feeling?" Boba exclaimed smiling and hugging Din,

"A lot better than I was, that's for damn sure. What happened to the kid who gave me a concussion?" Din asked.

"Got kicked out. Turns out he's done this in a bunch of other teams just never been reported properly." Boba returned.

Din's first game back was amazing. Everyone, even the Twin Sun's fans showed their excitement of the Mythasours captain making his return.

The game went to the Mythasours.

At the end of the game, Din done a speech giving his thanks for the support.

#pedro pascal #writing #hockey au #star wars #din djarin x reader

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