#i am in bed sick so if you wanna ask me some questions so i don’t feel so lonely and miserable 🥲💕💕 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yoongsisbae · 1 year

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10, 17, 18, 25, 26

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you? I think the reason the story exists in the first place is because on some level I was being haunted by the story. The character(s) is screaming at me to be heard, the story won't leave my thoughts until I write it down. It's happened with almost every single one of my stories. I will say Seokjin's Handshake particularly haunted me, as in when I dreamed about it I woke up sobbing and couldn't stop sobbing lol. Then when I finally wrote and edited the story I was in a moodTM for a long time 😅

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text. Let's do Run Run Run, cause that is what I am currently writing to cleanse myself of King of Corruption lol. I AM going to write some more flashback scenes on y/n's time before meeting back up with BTS, but a lot of it was condensed into only a few paragraphs and I don't know if I will ever add it to the story even though I know what happened lol. She did a lot of training at the airport, getting herself in shape, because she realized all the job skills she acquired before the apocalypse were utterly useless now. One of her top motivations to do this was to become someone who didn't need anyone to protect her. Why? She had made a friend at the airport, an airport worker who had been hiding, but she was eventually turned into a zombie saving y/n's life. She had come across and befriended a dozen or so workers/people still hiding in the airport, who all ended up getting bitten quite quickly leaving her all alone. Now as you can tell she has a bit of a complex from it. Also, with all her "training," she managed to completely clear out the airport of zombies and bury the bodies so if anyone decided to go to the airport it would be one of the few very safe and secure locations!

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

When it finally ends, you sigh, softly laughing.

“Well, I’ve never gotten that reaction before.” You wish you could tell him that was your first orgasm in months that you didn’t have to coax yourself. You almost forgot how good an orgasm like that could feel, how freeing.

Instead you look at him, a huge grin on your face and eyes sparking, admiring the man before you, happy it was Jungkook you found at the club and not a stranger.

No one has looked at him quite like that before, with starry-eyed reverence that makes everything feel so much more intimate, a deeper connection that he just isn’t used to.

THE FANTASY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOSEOK'S STORY lmao what happened was a reader requested a Jungkook story, so I panicked and used this WIP for Jungkook instead since it was closet to being done, but c'mon now, tell me you don't see Hoseok all over this story? 😂😂 LOLOL and subsequently, I Thought You Were Mine? was supposed to be Jungkook's story 😂😂😂😂 but I think what happened was I noticed I had so many JK stories, so I switched it for Hoseok instead. Not that I don't think Hoseok is strong, but if anyone is hauling my ass up to the door frame, it's gonna be Jungkook 🤣🤣

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story? I will literally do everything and anything to mention the size of Jimin's fingers and I don't apologize for it 🥲🥲🥲🥲 and if it's not in the story, it's because it sure was there in the first place but I forced myself to edit it out lmao 😭😭

Jungkook’s long fingers reaching deeper than Jimin ever could.

Hoseok’s digits slippery and moving fast inside you, Jimin’s short fingers thrusting in hard, rocking you over Hoseok’s thighs.

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place? How do you dream? For me, when I dream, I feel like I am teleported into that dream persona, I've been a man, a child, an old person, a murderer, and with that I have had all their memories, feelings, viewpoints, and it felt so goddamn real I've woken up and cried over it. I think I am basically doing the same when I am writing these characters, just letting them take me over for a bit lol, its easy to get out of it because most of the time I don't agree with my characters at all, some of my characters I hate lmao. Both y/n and Hoseok's characters from Day Dream I dislike, but also I understand their viewpoints so deeply because I took the time to get in their heads that I will defend their actions to readers, even if I personally would never lol and you know what? Readers seem to love them so at the end of the day, I don't regret it even if it is mentally draining, because it makes my story better lol.

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

#asks #ask game #i am in bed sick so if you wanna ask me some questions so i don’t feel so lonely and miserable 🥲💕💕

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starkwlkr · 5 months

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Love your baby Leclerc series! ❤️ If you're into the idea, maybe you'd like to write about Charles' little girl being sick and him being all worried and taking care of her? 🥺

my baby | charles leclerc

note: i am not taking requests, i am just posting my drafts

It started in the middle of the night when Ruby woke up Charles. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her with her bunny slippers on her cold feet. She stood beside Charles, who was snoring. She called his name several times, but he didn’t wake up so she tried poking his arm until he woke up. When that didn’t work, she remembered the story that she overheard the other day about something that Charles had shouted.

“Box! Box!” She raised her voice slightly.

It was like a trigger word for Charles that instantly brought bad memories and anxiety. The driver woke up immediately and saw that his daughter was standing in front of him.

“What time is it?” He wondered as he rubbed his tired eyes.

“I don’t know, but I’m hurting, papa.” Ruby whined.

“What’s wrong, my Ruby Jules?” Charles asked.

“My head is hurting and I’m cold.” She whispered.

Charles pressed his hand against Ruby’s forehead and felt it warm. She was getting a fever and you weren’t home. You were on a trip with Mathéo to your home country to visit your parents. Ruby had school so Charles stayed behind since he had a break from racing.

“You wanna sleep beside papa? I’ll get some medicine so you can feel better.” Charles uncovered himself and stood up from his bed . He took Ruby into his arms and laid her onto his bed then covered her with the blanket.

“Papa, Floppy is alone in my room! He doesn’t like being alone!” Ruby gasped.

“I’ll go get Floppy, just stay here.” Charles said then kissed Ruby’s warm forehead. His first stop was to get medicine from the cabinet in kitchen. He read the directions on the bottle then grabbed a spoon. His next stop was Ruby’s bedroom where he retrieved his daughter’s favorite stuffed bunny named Floppy.

“Floppy!” Ruby called out as Charles made his way back into his room. He carefully set the bunny on the bed for her to grab.

“Time for your medicine, mon amour,” he sat on the edge of the bed as he started to open the bottle of medicine.

“I don’t want that.” Ruby used Floppy to hide her face.

“Ruby Jules, if you want to get better, you have to drink your medicine.” Charles said. Ruby hesitated, but sat up so she could drink from the spoon filled with medicine that her papa had poured.

“Does it taste like candy?” She asked.

“I don’t know, how about you taste it and then tell me.”

So she did, but instantly realized that it did not taste like candy.

“Yuck!” She made a face at her papa wondering why he even bought that disgusting liquid into the house.

“Okay, you did good. Scoot, your papa wants some cuddles.” Charles got under the covers then brought Ruby closer to him.

Morning came and Ruby was still sick. She had a stuffy nose and her fever had gotten worse. She didn’t even feel like getting out of Charles’ bed so when it was breakfast time, he brought a plate of pancakes and fruit to her.

“Papa, it hurts.” Ruby groaned as she hugged Floppy. Charles was starting to question if he should take her to the emergency room. He had texted you early in the morning about Ruby’s condition. You replied that you would get on the next flight to Monaco, but he assured you that he could handle it.

At least he thought he could.

“I know, Ruby, I know,” Charles placed a kiss on her cheek. “You know, grand-mére told me that taking a bath makes you feel better. I’m going to fill the bath, okay?”

“Can you put bubbles and the toys?” She mumbled weakly.

“Anything for you.”

After getting the bath ready with bubbles and toys, Ruby got in. The water made her feel slightly better, but blowing bubbles and playing with rubber ducks with her papa made her smile ten times more.

“Hello mister duck, you look nice today!” Charles tried doing different voices for each duck. “Thank you, little duck!”

“The ducks should have names, papa.” Ruby said.

“You’re right, what should the ducks be called?” Charles asked.

“This one is called Arthur and this one Lorenzo.” Ruby laughed as she pointed to the two ducks that Charles had in his hands.

“I guess that just leaves Charles the duck.” The Ferrari driver grabbed the third duck that was floating in the bubbly water.

“No, papa! His name is Floppy two.” Ruby grabbed the duck from Charles’ hands and played with it.

“Floppy two . . . I guess he can be called that.”

When bath time came to an end, Charles let Ruby get dressed by herself, something she always wanted to do. As Ruby got dressed in her room, Charles prepared dinner for them. Before he could finish the mac and cheese for his daughter, the doorbell rang.

He walked to the front door and opened it revealing his brothers Lorenzo and Arthur, along with Lorenzo’s girlfriend, Charlotte. “Where is my favorite niece?” Arthur asked.

“Hello, Arthur, it’s so nice to see you. I’m doing good, thanks for asking.” Charles rolled his eyes as he let his family in.

“How is Ruby?” Lorenzo asked.

“She’s better. She just took a bath, that definitely helped a lot.” Charles explained.

“Papa! I can’t put my shoe on!” The Leclerc heard Ruby shout. She walked down the stairs with a pink tutu, purple leggings, a Barbie shirt and one shoe on while she held the other in her left hand.

“Interesting choice of clothing, Ruby.” Arthur laughed.

“It’s called fashion and Ruby is a pro at it, Arthur!” Charlotte playfully hit Arthur’s arm. “I’ll help you, Ruby, come on.” Charlotte led the little girl to the living room.

“Yeah, Arthur, it’s called fashion!” Ruby sassed.

Arthur cringed. “She just called me Arthur.”

“That’s your name.” Lorenzo replied.

“Yeah, but she’s my niece. It’s weird hearing it from her.”

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula one #baby leclerc series

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reiding-writing · 6 months

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Hi i am absolutely in love with your writing. If you want to, could you write Reid having one of his migraines and reader just comforts him, yk massaging his scalp and forehead and whatnot while he lay in her lap. Idk man i just wanna see my boy get some relief from his headaches because in the show he just suffers through them ☹️

migraine massages [ s.r ]

Summary:

Migraines are the worst. They hurt and they stop you from doing absolutely everything. Spencer was silently pleading for relief from his own body, and you plan to fulfil those needs.

WARNINGS: details of migraines, vomit mentions, mentions of spencer’s addiction, mentions of relapse

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 2.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: can’t have hurt/comfort without the hurt. from a personal perspective, migraines suck bro. they suck so bad.

i’m also mildly disappointed that they didn’t expand the migraine thing after they dropped the original tumour reason, like they could’ve done so much with it-

thanks for the request! <33

Spencer felt like his skull was being hammered from the inside out. Like his brain was silently vying to escape it’s confines and break out of the bone. He felt like every nerve of his body was working against him to make sure he had the most miserable day humanly possible.

He felt like if he moved an inch from his position that the coffee and croissant that he had for breakfast this morning in an attempt to make himself feel better was going to force it’s way up out of his stomach and paint his desk in a sea of vomit.

The tinnitus ringing in his ears didn’t help, nor did the agitatingly bright while florescent lights of the office that he’d never seemed to take much notice of before.

His shoulders ached as he rested his head in his hands, his thumbs negligibly working against his temples to attempt to relieve some of the aching pressure that sent waves through his head and made him want to curl up into ball under his bed covers and never wake up.

“Spence? Are you okay?” Your voice is deliberately quiet as you approach his desk on your return from the kitchenette, steaming mug of coffee cupped in your hands and concern written all over your face.

You can almost hear the sigh of relief as he realises it’s just you and not Hotch asking him for the fourth time today for the file he’d been trying to finish for the last almost three hours.

He doesn’t look up at you yet, merely replying a weak “hi…yeah…just a headache”

You can see him try to suppress a grimace as his own voice overloads his eardrums and sends another wave of pain through his head.

You knew what a headache looked like. And what he was experiencing looked nothing like ‘just a headache’.

“A headache? You look like you’re in a lot of pain, have you-” You begin to question his pain relief, but catch yourself before asking about painkillers. As much as they definitely shouldn’t be, opioids are the most common form of pain relief prescribed for migranes, and you knew that if he had gone to the doctors for the pain, he would’ve turned them down.

At least you hope so anyway.

“Have you… had it for long?”

There’s a pause, before an almost imperceptible nod comes from him. “Three hours… three hours and eighteen minutes…. I thought it was gonna pass but… it’s getting worse….” he swallows before forcing out the next part “…I feel sick….”

You give him a small nod and a pursed expression, becoming increasingly concerned as he continues his explanation, and you can just barely catch how pale his face has gone underneath his hands.

“You should go home Spence…”

He looks up from his desk at that suggestion. As he’s trying to answer he gets cut off by a blinding pain that explodes behind his eyes. He gasps and clutches his head, dropping back into his chair before closing his eyes. “Agh….”

“Spencer…” You can’t help but wince slightly at Spencer’s clear display of pain. “Let me drive you home, you’re not fit to work right now,”

He wants to argue but his mouth is dry. The pain is just too much for him to focus on anything else, including having an opinion, so instead he simply nods.

“Give me two seconds okay? I’m going to go and tell Hotch and then we can go,”

That seems to be a satisfactory answer for now, because he just nods again. He’s not quite ready for the onslaught of light and sounds that will be the outside world just yet. He simply leans his head back and closes his eyes, trying to relax and focus on his breathing.

It takes you a little under two minutes to return, and the first thing you do is take both of your messenger bags onto your shoulder and dispose of your coffee mug on your desk.

You hold out a hand tentatively to him to help him up from his chair. “Here, let’s get you home,”

He takes your hand, slowly getting on his feet as his change in positioning sends another wave of pain shooting through the front of his head. He’s leaning on you for balance as you lead him out of the BAU office. His vision is still blurry, but at least having someone to lean on stops him from having to risk tripping over.

You have to help him into your car once your reach the parking lot, reclining the passenger’s seat as far back as it’ll go so that he’s not forced to sit upright for the whole ten minute drive.

You make an effort to keep the vehicle smooth as you pull out of the office, checking periodically over at your side to make sure that Spencer is alright. Or as alright as he can be anyway.

Once you reach Spencer’s apartment complex, you shut off the car and collect both of your belongings, getting out yourself and then walking around to assist Spencer in getting up.

It’s clear from his expression that he wouldn’t’ve managed the task on his own. He leans on you in a combination of gratitude, comfort and convenience, and he continues to use you as a crutch through the front entrance to the elevator and all the way up to his apartment door, where he struggles to insert his key in the lock through his shaking hands.

“You got it?”

He gives a weak “mhm” as he fumbles with the keys in the lock for a few seconds more, but eventually manages to unlock the door and step inside with you.

“Take a seat Spence,” You lead him carefully over to his couch and sit him down before walking across the room to pull his curtains shut and dump your bags on his reading chair.

As you pull the curtains shut and turn around again, you notice the room being a little messier than usual. Books and papers have been scattered over the room, and there were several mugs and glasses dotted around.

Clearly this wasn’t his first migrane.

Spencer is increasingly grateful the room isn’t too bright as the shade covers the room, allowing him to relax into the cushions of the sofa as you kneel to help him remove his shoes before removing your own.

He doesn’t resist your assistance. The pain still hasn’t subsided enough for him to be in the mood to resist anything. He keeps his eyes closed the whole time you unlace his shoes, just grateful for any relief he can get.

“l’m going to get you some water okay?” Spencer nods at this suggestion. At this point he’s too tired and nauseous to try and fight you, so as you leave the room, he lays his head over the back of the couch and just waits for you to come back with the water.

You return with both a glass of water and a small holding a few ice cubes, handing Spencer the glass and leaving the towel on the coffee table to chill under the presence of the ice. “Drink,”

He takes the glass from you, before slowly leaning forward and sipping the water. Your presence seems to bring him a lot of comfort, much more than he probably realises.

He continues drinking until the glass is empty, seemingly more dehydrated than he realised.

You take a seat next to Spencer has he finishes the glass, and you take it from him gently and place it down on his coffee table.

He takes a deep breath in, and out, leaning back into the couch once more.

He’s trying so hard to focus on something other than his pain, but it’s difficult. So instead he focuses on one of the only other things he can feel, which is the warmth you radiate as you sit next to him. “Here, lie down Spence,”

You put a hand on his shoulder to help try and ease him down slowly so he doesn’t put himself in any more pain. “But there’s no space..”

“You can put your head in my lap it’s okay,” You lean over to grab the now cold towel, leaving the ice in the empty glass before patting your thighs as an indication for him to lie down. “Let me see if I can relive some of that lingering tension,”

If he were of his right mind right now he would’ve been somewhat embarrassed in such a scenario, but right now he’s just too tired and in pain to do anything else but submit to the situation.

He lays his head into your lap slowly, his face relaxing as he looks up at you with grateful eyes.

You chuckle softly as he blinks up at you, leaning down over him slightly to brush some hair off of his forehead. “Close your eyes Spence,”

You can see a slight pinkness in his cheeks as he closes his eyes. His expression is the perfect combination of relaxed and sleepy, although you can still see the traces of the pain he’s feeling through the knit in his eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders.

Just hearing the sound of your voice fills his head with warmth and relaxation; Even if his head is still pounding he feels a lot better just being able to listen to you.

As his eyelids flutter closed, you place the damp cold towel over them, raking your fingers gently through his hair to ensure that nothing gets caught underneath the fabric ans slowly detangling it in the process.

For a moment your touch sends him into heaven, and he can actually feel the tension and pain receding from his body.

As he relaxes, his body slowly begins to respond to the touch with warm and fuzzy feelings. He wants to savour every second of this, to commit the sensation to memory, to never forget the feeling of your warm and gentle touch.

“How long have you been having migraines for Spencer?” You make an effort to keep your tone as soft as possible, moving your attention from running your hands through his hair to kneading your fingers against his temples.

“they’re a fairly recent thing… been having them on and off for a few weeks now….” As your hands work on his temples the pain once again starts to recede significantly. It’s still there, it probably will be for a long time, but it’s no longer all pervading. “…they can be a little debilitating some days….”

“Have you…” you trail off your question, unsure if your right to ask him it. “Never mind-“

He pulls the fabric of the towel from his eyes and blinks them up at you. The dark circles under his eyes are still clearly evident, but it’s not really surprising considering all that’s been happening to him. “…you were gonna ask if i’ve been using again weren’t you?”

“…i’m just worried about you…”

You continue to gently massage at his temples as he sees right through your apprehension.

He can’t help but sigh softly as you indirectly admit to him being right in his assumption of your question. Your concern is appreciated, albeit unnecessary. “…I’m not using anymore… I quit… I’m serious…”

He plasters a small smile on his face as a form of reassurance, though it’s pretty weak considering the fatigue his headache was providing him. “Just having a bad bout of migraines this week… that’s all….”

“Can I just- see your arms? Please?” Your fingers halt their movements as you ask the question, fully focused on receiving an answer. “I just want to make sure…”

His body tenses up a little bit as the request is made, but he complies nonetheless. He slowly raises his arms and hikes up his shirt sleeves, exposing the flesh of his forearms to your view.

There’s no marks on them, no dark scars and no signs of track marks.

He’s clean, and you can tell from his body language alone that he’s telling the truth.

You can feel your shoulders physically relax as your eyes examine his skin, and your expression softens as you look down at him. “thank you…”

“I told you, I’m serious about staying clean….” He lowers his arms, closing his eyes again. He’s back where he was a few minutes ago, a man almost fully at peace despite the fact that he’s still in pain.

“I know Spence..” You scratch gently at his scalp, feeling a little guilty about unofficially accusing him of a potential relapse. But you had to know. You had to know that he was alright.

“I just care about you… I want you to be okay..”

As your fingers brush the base of his scalp he shivers slightly. The feeling is incredibly relaxing, more so than even the previous massage. He smiles softly at the fact that the pain has at least become bearable for now. “Thanks for looking after me…”

“Always,” The pad of your thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as you move to tuck a stand of hair behind his ear, knocked loose by him pulling on the hand towel that now laid crumpled on the floor.

Spencer’s eyes flicker slightly. The movement of your fingers across his cheeks is soothing, but also makes him feel something else entirely. It’s hard to describe.

He can’t deny the sensation that rises up from his stomach at these small gestures of affection. A part of him is enjoying it more than is probably okay, given the situation and how tired he is. All it amounts to are butterflies, but that’s enough to make his cheeks flush slightly. “you should take a nap Spencer,”

“mhm…” He nods in agreement. “but can I ask you a small favour first…?”

You mirror his nod with one of your own, your fingers returning to scratching gentle lines against his scalp. “Of course you can,”

There’s a small moment of silence before he speaks again, his eyes flickering between you and the ceiling.

“can you stay with me?”

His question is more of a request, and you swear that you melt from the innocent pleading in his tone.

With you around it’s almost like he doesn’t notice the pain at all. When he closes his eyes it feels like the world is completely at peace, like there’s no need to worry about anything else at this moment in time.

“…please…?” the last word is almost a whisper.

You don’t hesitate in your answer, giving him a soft smile. “of course i will..”

You let out a small breath of air alongside your words, your eyes entranced with the relaxed expression on Spencer’s face, mixed with relief at your willingness to spend a few more hours with him.

Spencer feels a small smile form on his lips as you respond. His hands raise slightly and clutch at your thighs, gently gripping at them almost compulsively.

Now that he knows you’ll be sticking around for a while, all he wants to do is fall asleep in your company.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #asks 🫶

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Dirty Work 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.

“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.

Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”

“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”

You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.

“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”

“Me either,” you say as you face her.

Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”

“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”

“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”

She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.

“What am I looking at?” He sneers.

“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”

“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”

“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”

“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.

“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”

“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”

You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.

You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.

👠

The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched.

Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.

You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.

Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.

“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”

“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”

“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”

“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.

“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go.

She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.

“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”

You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.

“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”

“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.

“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.

“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”

“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”

“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”

You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.

You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.

Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.

You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.

Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.

You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.

“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”

“Is it very far?” You wonder.

“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”

Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.

“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”

Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.

“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”

“Some, shall I–”

He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.

She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.

He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.

“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”

“The carpenter?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.

“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”

“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.

“You’re not even done your tea.”

“I’ll finish on my way in–”

“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.

“What?”

“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.

“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”

“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”

You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”

He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”

“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”

“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.

“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.

“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”

Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.

“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”

“Did you like how he touched you?”

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.

“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.

“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”

You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?

“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”

He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”

She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.

“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”

“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command.

You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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secretsandwriting · 3 months

Text

Obsessed

Ethoslab x gn reader

Where Etho is sick and the reader is dragged in to take care of him

As per usual, I've attempted gn reader but I am used to writing fem so if I messed it up let me know and I'll fix it

(UNEDITED)

You weren’t sure why you were pinged by Gem to meet at Etho’s base as soon as possible, but there you were, landing a few steps away from Gem in front of Etho’s base. She turned around, clearly relieved to see you.

“Etho’s sick.” That wasn’t good but you weren’t sure why that required your immediate arrival, Gem seemed to catch on to your unsaid question. “He’s refusing to believe he’s sick and won’t let anyone help him. Tango said he’s way too warm to just brush it off, and since Etho listens to you a little better than the rest of us I asked you to come.”

“I don’t know if he will on this, especially if he wants to get back to his redstone.” You followed Gem into Etho’s base and found him arguing with Tango and Pearl, both trying to get him to lay back down while Etho tried to get past them to work on whatever he felt was calling his name. Which left only one method that would maybe work.

“Etho?” He whipped around and smiled through his mask at you.

“Hey Y/n! Want to come look at my farms if Pearl and Tango would get out of the way?” You held up some papers.

“Actually, I have some plans I’ve been testing for a farm but I’m not sure if I have the numbers right. Would you mind looking over them with me?” Etho paused and his gaze flickered between you and the papers.

“Of course!” With that, your fate was sealed. Etho ushered you to the kitchen table and the papers were laid out and he started pouring over them, figuring it out in his head and mumbling it out. It didn’t take long to hear the effects of his fever. His rambling made no sense. Less sense than most of his redstone rambles. While he was talking, you gently placed your hand against his forehead. Etho froze before ever so slightly leaning against your hand.

Tango was right, he was burning up.

“Alright, that's enough. You need to get some rest, your fever is high.” Immediately Etho protested, “I’ll make you a deal. If you listen to what I tell you, I’ll take care of you. If you don’t, I’ll ask Doc too.” He weighed his choices. “Head to bed, I’ll be there in a minute with some things.” Etho jumped up and headed to his room, he was out cold when you went up three minutes later.

You took that time to get everything you needed together and make some light food for when he woke up. Knowing full well a sick Etho would take advantage of any open second to get away and go back to work and once he started it could be almost impossible to pull him away.

Etho was out until the next morning, and as predicted, he tried to escape out the window. Thankfully you had blocked all of them off so he couldn’t but he still tried. Begrudgingly, he accepted the tea and sipped on it slowly while he ate his soup.

When you checked his forehead, he leaned into your touch more than he had the day before, he was also quite a bit warmer then he had been. Hoping you were wrong, you gently pushed his hair off his forehead and kissed it. It was worse, though you were pretty sure the sudden flush in his cheeks was not from the fever.

Etho whined and complained when he was sentenced back to bed but immediately calmed down when you offered to read something to him. Settling down under a large pile of blankets he fell asleep to the fairy tale you were reading to him.

The next time he woke up, he was delirious and to make it worse, he kept trying to get up to go work on some redstone project. Nothing you tried would convince him to settle down and at least stay inside.

“You wanna know what will keep me inside?”

“Yes Etho, I do!” Etho’s expression morphed into something you weren’t sure you wanted to know and he leaned a little closer to whisper to you.”

“A kiss, and not on the cheek, it has to be on the lips and you have to cuddle with me.” Oh boy, you had a feeling you knew how this was going to end.”

“I will give you a kiss on the lips and cuddle with you, if you listen to me and you can collect it when you're better and no longer contagious.” He pouted at the last part but seemed to accept it as he settled back down in bed and fell back asleep.

Three days later, Etho was better and you left to go back to your base for the first time in 6 days. It was nice to finally shower in your own home, and it would be nice to finally get a full nights sleep again in your own bed.

What you didn’t expect was for someone to join you.

“It’s just me.” Etho. “I am here to collect my kiss and cuddles.” Of course Etho would remember that, why did you even agree to it i- Your thoughts were cut off by Etho pulling you closer to him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years.” Etho whispered before closing the space between your lips. It was a short kiss, but damn was it good. You could feel the questions in the air, questions you weren’t sure if you knew how to answer. So you did the only thing you could think of that could possibly answer a few of them without having to find the words.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you pulled him back for another one. You could feel his smirk through your kiss and his arms tightened around your waist.

“I didn’t know you were so obsessed with me.” He teased, before you could fire a response back he continued, a little more serious, “It’s ok though, I’m obsessed with you too.”

#ethoslab #hermitcraft etho #etholabs #etho #ethoslabs x reader #etho x reader #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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allllium · 4 months

Text

Stage 2

~ finished this a little later than I wanted to but here it is. It's pretty short but I love soft Remus so much <3

~ Fluff/ Hurt/comfort? WC: 852

~ Laying with Remus after a full moon <3

When dating Remus Lupin there are always three stages. Right before the full moon, right after the full moon and any other time. Right now you're firmly planted in stage 2, the day after the full moon.

Remus during this time is always extremely clingy, even more so than usual (not that you mind). But right now you're currently trapped under your very tall boyfriend.

You're laying on your side with him behind you holding you as close as he physically can. Remus loves skin to skin contact with you when he's in this clingy state so you're both laying in your underwear. He has his arms wrapped tightly around your waist and his head hidden in your neck.

“Remus, baby, are you ready for some food?” You ask him gently, not getting an answer. However, you know he has a lack of energy due to the activities of last night so you poke him until he answers.

“No.” Is all he grumbles, clearly sick of getting poked in the face.

“You have to eat at some point.”

This time you don't get a word response from him, only gaining an angry grunt as he fails to pull you closer.

“Remus, sweetie, I'm pretty sure we're as close as physically possible.” A small laugh tumbles though your lips.

“No.”

“Am I gonna get any response other than no?”

“Maybe.”

You softly chuckle at him again. “Remy, it's a Sunday. I am more than happy to lay in bed with you all day after you eat some food. What can I make James get you?”

“Something from the hall is fine.”

“Okay good I'll make James bring us something.”

“Thank you.” He mutters, a little gentler than before.

You send a message to James via magic to get You and Remus some food from the hall. Once James arrives he leaves the food on the bedside table and exits the room while making a dozen of strange winky faces towards Remus. Shaking your head at his childish antics, you start to sit up.

Remus seems to have a problem with that as he aggressively pulls on your hips until you're lying back down. You let a startled shriek and your eyes grow wider at his movement. He acts like nothing happened and puts his head back on your chest.

“Remus. What the fuck?” You ask him in disbelief. Yes he is usually clingy but this is a whole new level for him.

“Don't wanna move.” His voice shows nothing but comfort.

“You can't eat while you're lying on me.”

“Then I won't eat.”

“Remus Lupin you will eat this food or I will go back to my dorm and you can cuddle a pillow.”

That gets his attention. He lifts his head up just enough to give you a betrayed glare. Instead of getting up like you were hoping, he moves his arms in a way that allows him to tighten his grip around you. “Try me.”

What the hell is going on right now??

“C'mon let's eat.” You pull out of his hold and sit up. He doesn't move, flopping his head on your lap instead. “No up.”

Reluctantly he pulls his head off the bed and grabs the plate of food. You eat in complete silence. Remus eats as quickly as he can, holding your hand the whole time.

As soon as you both finish your food, he tosses the plates to the side and pulls you to him.

“Are you okay, honey? You're not usually this bad.”

“Am I bothering you?” Such a simple question shouldn't be enough to melt your heart but somehow it did.

“No, of course not.” You pause for a moment to make him look at you. “I just want to make sure you're alright.”

“I'm fine. I just want to be with you.”

“I'm not going anywhere. Do you need anything else? Water or something?”

“No just you.” His voice is quiet, almost inaudible. “If I don't let you go you can't leave.”

“What?” Saying your face dropped at the speed of light would still be an understatement.

“Nothing.”

“Honey, that's not nothing. What's wrong? What can I do?”

“It's nothing Angel. I just overheard someone say something about my scars.” He shrugs it off but I can tell it bothered him. “But that doesn't matter because you love me and that's all that matters.” He repeats the words you've told him many times.

“You're still allowed to be upset, Remy.”

“I know but I don't wanna be. I don't want some random person to be able to affect me.”

“You can't choose your feelings. And that's okay. Those people have no right to talk about you like that when you're prettier than all of them.

“Pretty?” He finally gives you a full smile.

“Pretty, hot, gorgeous, beautiful, handsome, I can keep going.”

“I think I get it.”

“Good because you're perfect and you need to know it.”

“Thank you, angel.” He leans up to give you a quick kiss on the top of your nose. “I love you y'know.

“I love you too, Remy.”

~ Now off to go make a banner for this amazing man and can someone please explain how y'all do those 'read more' things, I'm so confused 😭

#remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin scenario #possessive remus lupin #remus lupin baby blurb #remus lupin #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine

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unforgettwble-sumii · 1 year

Text

GO TO SLEEP, AMOR ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅☆

(Wednesday x Fem!reader)

> It's 11 a.m and you're still on your phone reading a fanfic about your favorite fictional character. (For the sake of the oneshot let's say that said fictional character was Draco Malfoy.)

⚪ Your roommate Yoko went to have a sleep over at Enid's and Wednesday's dorm, So it was the perfect opportunity for Wednesday to stay over at your dorm.

🟠 It's been hours and you still haven't went to bed so, she tries her best to convince you to go to bed without attempting any murders.

—–·—–·—–·—–·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—·–—

"For the last time, Amor. Go. To. Sleep." Wednesday said glaring at you. What was so important that was on your phone? Why did you keep on giggling?

"Waitttt Wennnn, I'm almost done reading this!! 20 minutes moreeeeee" you say whining, you quickly glanced at her then back to your phone.

At this point, Wednesday was about to loose it. You said that about 2 hours ago. It's a miracle that she hasn't dragged you to your bed.

Wednesday sighed. "What are you even doing?"

She got up from your bed and moved towards the baby pink couch you had in your dorm room that you were sitting on.

You were sitting with your legs crossed and was hugging the adorable giant bat plushie Wednesday got you from the carnival awhile back when you were sick.

Wednesday sat beside you, observing you like a hawk. Wednesday wondered how the hell she managed to get with you.

'Eres perfecta' she mumbled, cheeks lightly coated with blush, not too visible for you to see. Her lips curled up into a very small yet loving smile.

She snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at your phone.

"what are you doing?" she asked looking back at your face.

You giggled and moved your phone so it was much closer to Wednesday's face.

"I'm reading a fanfic!!!!" You exclaimed, a big smile plastered on your face.

'Fanfic?' Wednesday questioned herself. She glared at you in confusion.

You noticed the expression she made, you giggled at it. She was really adorable.

"Enlighten me." She said, one eyebrow raised. You went on explaining it to her, it took her quite some time to understand.

"Why would you wanna read these so called 'fanfics' when you can read books." She tilted her head as she said that.

"well...I don't know, plussss they also have some great stories hereee" you say batting your eyes at her.

"they corrupt the minds of young and adult girls and romanticize the cruel world. I think it's pathetic." She says glaring at you.

"hey! That's not true!" You say crossing your arms infront of your chest.

"You're acting like a big baby." She says

You laughed at her reply and hugged the plushy infront of you closer.

"We should go to bed now, Cara mia." She says sighing.

"but-" you say pouting. "No buts. It's 12 am and we have to go to class early tomorrow." She says with a stern expression.

"fine..." Your lips formed a small pout. You stood up from the couch, making your way to your bed. Wednesday following right behind you.

You laid down sighing, making sure to leave space for your love.

Wednesday laid down beside you and pulled you closer. Her action surprised you but, nevertheless you melted in her touch.

You gave her a smile and hugged her even closer than before "I love you...wen."

She gave you a peck on the cheek as a way of her saying 'i love you more.'

"Sleep well, my love." She says with a small smile.

And with that you both started to doze off

a/n:

I just had a random strike of motivation and decided to make this (hence the reason why it's short) however it is rushed so I deeply apologize if it isn't that good.

Oh and I didn't proofread it so I apologize for any errors, as again, I made this in a rush.

That is all thankyouu, luv u all!! ♡︎

</3 xoxo - unforgettwble-sumii

/ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ 💐

©unforgettwble-sumii's work. Pls do not repost, steal modify, or translate.

#wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday x female reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday imagines #wednesday addams x you #spotify #wednesday #Spotify

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freyito · 7 months

Text

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ & ᴋᴇɴꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋᴀʜᴀꜱʜɪ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

guess whos getting sick.... yippee!! i like never get sick and when i do im like completely OUT. rn it's just a sore throat and a kind of cough but it's been getting worse all day so i figured i'd get this out and donesies with before i cant even leave my bed lol

cw: gn reader, just fluff, JEWISH JOHNNY (hes jewish and you arent gonna tell me otherwise), not proofread

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny does not care that you could possibly get him sick, he is all over you. Like not once does he leave your side. And if he has to? Then he's just picking you up and taking you with him. Even if you complain that you wanna stay in bed.

He's got a weeks worth of takeout planned. All your favorite comfort food, something cold for your throat, something warm, too. And he's always got a nice, cold bottle of water for you. He's very intent on you staying hydrated.

We all know he can't cook. But this man has ONE (1) thing he actually can make without messing up. Two words. Jewish. Penicillin. Good ol' Matzoh Ball Soup. Guaranteed to cure you (don't take his word). And it's damn good. It's the perfect temperature, and it runs down your throat so smoothly that it- for once- doesn't feel like sandpaper. It's bliss. Pure damn bliss.

Of COURSE you're gonna end up cuddled up on the couch or in bed, watching some sort of movie or show. It's Johnny Cage. But, he also just likes talking with you. Or, to you. He doesn't want you to lose your voice, now. He'll ramble on and on about cinema, history- literally any, but of course he's a bit partial to Sento and the Taira clan specifically.-, and physics, science, yada yada.

And he talks and talks for days on end. Until you get better. But who am I kidding, he talks then, too. And when you finally get better, it's actually a miracle that Johnny isn't sick. But he's even more clingy, after.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Unlike Johnny, Kenshi knows to give you space. Doesn't mean he isn't right by you the entire time, though. He's constantly checking your temperature, checking in on you in general. Do you need anything? How about a warm bath? Something to eat? Water? It's a constant stream of questions. He's just so worried about you, even if it is just a common cold.

He does order takeout as well, but it usually just amounts to soups and what not, he's kind of hellbent on making sure you eat the right foods and not something that could even make the cold slightly worse. He'll let popsicles slide, though... just no icecream. Hell no.

About that bath... Kenshi puts his heart and soul into it, for whatever reason. Epsom salt, some vitamin C bath foam, maybe some petals just to make it a little fancy. Oh, he's got it all. He wants to make sure you're at the height of relaxation.

Music and Audiobooks. He's got then playing, unless you ask for silence. Of course, he plays them kinda softly. He's a bit afraid of you getting a headache. It offers some sort of mental stimulation, though, while your huddled up in bed. He wants to make sure you don't feel bored while you're sick.

And once you're better... he's got so much laundry done. Like the very moment you're all energized and feeling better, he's like "oh the dryers done!". Kenshi wants to make sure there's no risk of you getting sick again, and to be honest, he pampers you a little extra, too.

#⁺◟freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 x gn reade #mortal kombat x gn reader #mk x gn reader #mk1 x gn reader #johnny cage x reader #kenshi takahashi x reader #johnny cage x gn reader #kenshi takahashi x gn reader

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noellesturniolo · 14 days

Text

Am I making you feel sick?

A/N: eventual smut later in the fic, you are responsible for what you consume. Cannabilism however u spell it, P in v, Breeding, asphyxiation, blood, unprotected sex! (DONT DO THIS), cream pie, daddy kink, pet names: baby, honey,sweetheart princess, pretty girl. Female reader, semi, public sex. prolly more. fluff, angst. IN THIS UNIVERSE LEE WILL NOT DIE. PERIOD. THATS IT.

REQUESTS OPEN!!! I write for a lot of people please check my pinned to see who I write for! (I also take requests of who to write for)

Summary: you meet a stranger that’s also a so called eater, eventually you fall in love with him and during a kill you wonder how good he could make you feel

“Don’t talk to strangers, or you might fall in love”

A dimly lit streetlight shines above me, I could smell him in the store. He left shortly after having a man chase him out. My eyes are drawn to the corner of the abandoned building where I know he lays above the man's bloodied body eating.

The skinny boy stands up and out of the window stumbling, blood dripping down his body and coming from his mouth.

“Whatcha looking at darlin?” he asked

“I could smell you in the store.” I blankly replied.

“Could you now? I could smell you too, another eater?” he tilts his head to the side.

I nod and look around. “So where you headed?” I inquire.

“Wherever the wind takes me, honey, what about you?” his smirk grew.

“Same.” I stay quiet observing the boy, from top to bottom. Curly red grown-out hair, shell necklace originally white covered in blood droplets, the res stain meeting his skinny frame, and suddenly his hips shift.

“You like what you see there? Well if you have nowhere to go either. Come with me.” he pointed to the blue truck and his feet began to move towards the driver's side. Before my mouth could say anything I felt myself following him. I open the door from the passenger's side and climb up into the seat. With a creak, the door shuts.

“I asked you a question doll” he turns to look me in my eyes, grabbing my chin to turn my face to look at him. “I said, you like what you see doll?” giving him yet another glance down his body. I nod slowly. He lets go and turns his eyes toward the wheel and road. “Thatta girl” With a jerk the car starts up and begins to move slowly.

“Where are we staying for the night?” I look at him curiously.

“Wherever this guy's house is” he nods.

“What's your name beautiful?” he follows up with.

“Y/n, you?” I meet his eyes yet again.

“Lee.”

————

The light gleams in, and my eyes start to flutter. I turn to the other side and Lee is dangerously close to me. Cramped up in a small twin-size bed. Without waking Lee I jolt up and get ready for the day, opening the man's fridge to see if anything good could be scavenged, eggs.

A crack and pop of the eggs cooking is the ambiance as I look around the house, the eerie feeling is lingering. The house smelt like weed and cigarettes. I go to turn a corner in the house and my waist is quickly pulled back and spun around.

“You probably don't wanna go in there, it smells the worst in there. It's just an old record and a TV, rotten food. He really was a low life. Well, good riddance..”

I chuckle and my head falls into Lee's chest. His arms wrap tighter around me. “I made eggs in case you hungry for not…people” I look up at his beautiful blue eyes and his perfect smile.

“I'm always hungry honey.” he makes his way to the kitchen grabbing the eggs out of the pan and bringing them to the table.

For some reason, meeting a nonscary eater has made me more comfortable, and makes me feel more connected to him.

“I feel like I can be myself around you.” I break the silence sitting down.

“Whys that?” he makes a confused face.

“You're just the only eater that I've met that isn't scary, kinda sweet actually.” I smile

“Well, that's just perfect honey, and kinda? I'm insulted.” Lee chuckled.

“You are sweet, are” I laugh.

—— two months later ——

Lee drives down the road after picking a man up at the carnival to eat for the night, Lee brings him into the cornfield and begins to touch him. It was odd seeing Lee like that. Talking someone through it, the farthest we had gone was just a quick make-out session.

The man's moans echo throughout the so-called empty cornfield. Does Lee make people feel that good? Before the man could finish Lee slit his throat and waves me over. “Were you watching darlin'?”

“Yeah, I was.” I kneel down to feed on the man, but then Lee’s eyes dart up to look at me. “Eat baby, come on” I began to feed on the man, but keeping my eyes on who I'm truly craving. Lee.

As we finish the man Lee stands up with his blouse unbuttoned and blood down his body. “Come on pretty girl, let's get out of here.” he motions for me to follow him. I quickly follow him. Once we're at the truck I keep my eyes on Lee.

“Need somethin’ sweetheart?” Lee smirks.

“You, Lee, need you.” Lee is taken aback by the sudden boldness but keeps his mischievous smirk plastered on his face.

“Go to the bed of the truck, and bend that ass over f’me mk? I'll get there in a second love”

I do as he says and pull down the wall to the truck bed plant my feet on the road and arch my back laying the front of my body on the cold truck bed. I look around the dark isolated road, with only us. Fog covering the cornfield. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lee walk over and feel his presence behind me.

“Mm that's a good girl, love seeing this ass bent over for daddy.” a harsh slap makes contact with my ass, my dress is slowly lifted up to reveal my wet pussy.

“No panties hm? You slut.” another slap is landed on my ass. I feel Lee get on his knees and lick a stripe down my cunt, he begins to attack my clit, the noise of him sucking on my clit could make me cum alone. Suddenly he adds a finger to my pussy stretching it out.

“Gotta stretch this pussy for my dick, yeah?” he mumbles into my pussy,

I cry as I feel a second finger added to my pussy, he continues to fuck my pussy with his fingers at a fast pace. His tongue lapped over my sweet spot, I started to build up this feeling in my stomach.

“Im gonna- fuck- Lee I'm gonna cum.” his pace quickens.

“Come on baby come f’me, come on my tongue.”

I feel my legs twitch and white covers Lee’s tongue but he doesn't stop.

“Gonna get your cum all over my face baby,” my legs twitch and my pussy becomes sensitive, and my legs began to shake more intensely. “Thats my good girl.”

Lee licks one last stripe and stands up, the pressure on his hips is sudden and firm. “You feel that princess, you feel how hard my dick is for you?” he groans out. “Yeah baby it's so big.” he jerks his hips, rubbing his clothed cock around my entrance. “That's all you have to say? Hmm okay, baby.”

His pants and underwear are yanked off in one swift motion, and his undergarments hang low against his ankles. The tip of his cock begins to rub against my pussy, from my clit to my entrance. “You want it inside baby.” he pulls back spitting in his cock and fondling it and rubbing the tip around my opening.

“Yes Lee, baby please need it so bad”

“So needy sweetheart.”

With one swift motion, Lee is inside me entirely. letting out a loud groan, he stays for one second letting my pussy adjust to the hasty stretch. “So tight baby.”

He begins to thrust deeply into my pussy, “Hmm baby, so wet and tight for me.” his cock hits my cervix over and over again. The sounds of slapping and moaning fill the once-quiet atmosphere. I glance behind me at Lee with his head thrown back encircled in blood, muttering incoherent words.

“Lee fuck its so big.”

“Yeah, this dick big enough for you? Who's fucking pussy is this?” he starts to thrust harder, “Your pussy baby.”

“Thats right pretty girl.” his thrusts slow down. “Thats fucking right” he grumbles.

A tug on my hair is felt and then a hand creeps up on my neck. “You want me to make you a mommy baby, fill up this pussy?” his thrusts are painfully slow and deep. “Yes baby please wanna be a mommy,” I beg and cry out when his thrusts speed up.

“Good girl, gonna make you the most perfect mom- oh fu- fuck gonna cum in this pussy baby.” hot cum spurts to my cervix and he lets go of my throat. “Good girl, don't let it drip out.” I stand up and he kisses my lips.

“We better get going hun, don't wanna get caught.” he steps away and walks to the front of the truck. I follow quickly behind.

We sit in silence and the car starts.

“Lee I love you.”

“I love you pretty girl.”

#Spotify #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamalabingbong #lee bones and all #bones and all #willy wonka #wonka smut #wonka x reader smut #smut

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yoongsisbae · 1 year

Note

Oooooo for the ask game 16 22 and 27

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark? An m&m

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud? I am not organized whatsoever 🥲 What are you supposed to organize? The words? lol 😆 I use googledocs and tumblr (WHICH I DON'T RECCOMEND AT ALL UNLESS YOU WANT 5K WORDS TO DISAPPEAR INTO THIN AIR FOR NO DAMN REASON DON'T BE LIKE ME STICK WITH ANYTHING ELSE THE NOTES APP IS BETTER THAN TUMBLR DRAFTS ISTG)

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why? Yoongi's character in C!HOC stresses me out lmao having to justify his actions gives me a headache. Writing yandere characters takes a lot out of me mentally tbh.

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

#ask game #asks #i am in bed sick so if you wanna ask me some questions so i don’t feel so lonely and miserable 🥲💕💕

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svltzmans · 8 months

Text

take care - f.g.

a/n: i'm so grateful for these fiona requests, thank you so much! writing for her is comforting for me ❤️‍🩹 i promise i'll get back to writing for other characters soon though!

warnings: reader is sick (but it all turns out fine!), very fluffy of course (not proofread though)

when y/n wakes up in a cold sweat, she can tell something is terribly wrong.

each swallow feels like a mouthful of glass, breathing through her nose is impossible, and her body feels like it's engulfed in invisible flames.

forcing herself to turn to read the clock, she sees that it's still the middle of the night. 2:30 a.m., to be exact.

how could she have gone to bed a few hours ago feeling completely fine?

y/n's first instinct is to grab her phone and text the only person she knows who may be awake at this hour. solitude isn't exactly her favorite, especially when she's sick. she could use someone to chat with.

are you awake?

she clicks send, rolling back over onto her pillow. she's exhausted, yet sleep seems impossible. before she can even think about trying to fall back asleep, her phone dings.

what's going on? it's late baby.

her girlfriend, fiona, is usually quite the night owl. she spends most of her days catering to other people, including her siblings, so her evenings are the time she reserves for herself.

is it healthy? probably not. fiona finds time to sleep at some point in her busy life, and y/n tries not to think about it too much to avoid the inevitable worry she would feel.

i think i have the flu or something.

fiona writes back almost immediately.

i'm coming over.

y/n forces herself to sit up, realizing that her girlfriend is probably being serious.

fi, it's the middle of the night.

go to sleep and you can come in the morning.

hello?

y/n knows it's no use, and she's proven correct when she hears a light knock on the door.

when she opens it, fiona is standing in the hall with several cans of soup, an entirely-too-big box of medicine, and a 12-pack of sports drinks.

"you're out of your mind," y/n laughs, voice scratchy.

"i am not, my girl is sick and i'm taking care of her."

"what about the kids?" y/n feels concerned realizing the rest of the gallaghers are alone in the house.

"they're asleep, first of all," fiona laughs. "but i asked v to make sure everything is fine. she's awake too, believe it or not."

"where did all this stuff even come from?"

"24 hour stores are a thing, you know. any further questions?" fiona laughs at her own sarcasm before grabbing hold of y/n's hand.

"c'mon, you're getting back in bed."

"i'm awake now, though."

"not for long, pretty girl," fiona replies.

before she knows it, y/n is in fiona's arms, being carried bridal style to her bedroom.

fiona sets y/n on the bed gently, pulling the covers over her.

"aren't you gonna get in too?"

"well duh, i didn't come here for nothing. but i'm going to get you medicine first."

when fiona returns, she's carrying a bowl of soup, along with the medicine she promised and a glass of water.

"i thought you were just getting me medicine," y/n teases, seeing that fiona had outdone herself.

"you know i can't help myself. now, take this and eat your soup."

fiona sits next to y/n in her bed, pushing her hair behind her ears and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"jesus, you're burning up. my poor girl," fiona coos, wrapping her arms around y/n.

"fi, i'm gonna spill the soup."

fiona pulls away, forgetting that y/n's hands were very much occupied with a hot bowl.

she can't help but giggle as y/n drinks some of the broth before putting the bowl on her bedside table and returning fiona's hug.

"can we watch a movie?" y/n asks, even though she already knows the answer.

"you have to pick it though, you know i'm indecisive," fiona responds before leaning in to kiss y/n.

"fi! you're gonna get sick!"

"i don't care and you know it. wanna kiss my girl."

melting at fiona's words, y/n allows fiona to kiss her, feeling her body heat up and knowing it isn't because of her fever.

when y/n and fiona finally separate, y/n turns on her television, resting her head on fiona's shoulder.

"lay down, silly," fiona insists, letting y/n rest her head on her chest.

"can we watch that musical? the one about the wedding on the island or whatever?"

"babe, we watched 'mamma mia' last time i was here."

"i'm sick, you can't say no to me."

"i can't say no to you ever. i'll put it on, you rest."

20 minutes into the film, y/n had already fallen asleep, her head still rested on fiona.

fiona smiles to herself, admiring her sleeping girlfriend. it isn't long before she falls asleep herself, arms around y/n.

y/n wakes up the next day to find that it's already after noon, and that she's actually starting to feel better.

her nose had cleared significantly, and although her throat was still sore, she considered it a win.

finally standing up and walking to the kitchen, she's surprised to see fiona hovering over the stove, evidently cooking.

"good morning, sleepyhead. how you feelin'?" upon closer inspection, y/n sees that fiona is cooking pancakes.

"better, actually. i can't believe you left me in bed alone, though," y/n teases, wrapping her arms around fiona's waist from behind.

"only to make you breakfast, my love. or lunch, seeing as you slept until 12:30."

"i forgive you, but only because the food smells good."

"oh, just be quiet and eat your pancakes."

#fiona gallagher x fem! reader #fiona gallagher #fiona gallagher drabble #fiona gallagher x reader #fiona gallagher fic #fiona gallagher x fem reader #shameless x reader #shameless #shameless fic

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meganslife · 2 months

Text

Pen pals - p. parker (part five)

pairing: TASM! peter parker x reader

TASM! peter masterlist w/ series

summary: you find out that peter is spiderman, and your visit continues with more love and affection than you could ever imagine. (possible tw’s; past-self harm mention, slight panic attack on peters end)

a/n: HI HI HI!! i am so sorry that this came out later than i said it would. vacay was rough and busy. anyway, enjoy!

Peter stares at you like a deer in headlights. You stare right back.

“It’s… It’s a cosplay–” Peter tries.

“Peter.”

He puts all of the food back in the fridge. “I’m preparing for comic-con.”

“Peter, stop.”

“I’m serious! I- I take comic-con very seriously,” Peter insists.

You shake your head, turning away from him.

“Peter, it’s okay. You’re Spider-Man. It’s fine.” You sigh, noticing some blood on his suit. “Are you bleeding?”

He tenses up. “I– um, maybe.”

You grab his chin and inspect his face. He has a bruise forming on his temple, and a small cut on top of the bruise. “I’ll clean you up,” You say, yanking him by his wrist to the bathroom. No other house would have a full drawer of medical supplies besides Peter’s.

“Y/N, it’s fine,” Peter whines. “I just wanna go to bed.”

“I don’t care.”

He scoffs, leaning on the bathroom counter. You start a bath and make it all bubbly and warm. Peter was visibly stressed, and baths helped you, so maybe they’d help Peter.

“Okay!” You clap, “Uh, I’ll turn around and you can… Y’know.”

Peter nods, his face flushed.

He gets into the water, wincing at how warm it is. You ask if you can turn around, and he says yes, but you don’t really know if you’re ready to turn around. The bubbles in the water most likely made it so that you couldn’t see his bottom half… But you’d see enough to make you feel funny.

You slide off your hoodie, and then you realize you’re only in a bra and shorts. Peter notices too.

“Sorry. It’s just hot in here-”

Peter shakes his head. “It’s okay. Can you wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” You nod. He gets his hair wet, going under the water in the process. When he comes back up, he stares at you again. You pretend to not notice as you rub the shampoo into his scalp.

“What?” You laugh, washing out the shampoo. “You’re staring at me.”

Peter shakes his head, smiling. “It’s nothing,”

“No, what is it?”

“It’s an awkward question,” His posture slumps. He’s embarrassed.

You rub his shoulders. “Just ask it. I don’t care if it’s awkward.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

You gulp. “Yeah.” That was an awkward question.

Relationships have been terrible for you so far. The last boyfriend you had was the summer before college started. He was terrible. Super mean, especially about Peter. He didn’t understand how important Peter was to you. Talking about relationships kind of made you feel sick, mostly because no one had ever treated you right. You felt unloveable. Sometimes you worried that you’d die alone and cold.

“You never mentioned one in our letters,” He raises an eyebrow.

“I guess I just didn’t want to talk about it,” You shrug. “They were all mean.”

Peter looks at you, his smile gone. “Mean?”

“I don’t like talking about them,” You look down at your lap. “It’s kind of like re-hashing old wounds, you know?”

Peter doesn’t miss how you briefly look at your arm; the arm is scattered with white scars from old wounds you inflicted on yourself.

“Can you turn around so I can dry myself off?” Peter asks.

You nod, and he barely even dries himself off. You can hear how antsy he is.

The towel was wrapped around his waist when you felt him hugging you from behind.

“Peter, you’re all wet,” You giggle.

He laughs too. “Shh, it’s fine. You’re fine.”

“Let go.”

“Never,” Peter whispers in your ear.

“I’ll scream,” You warn.

“Yeah, right.”

When you and Peter finally make it to his bed, he wraps an arm around your shoulders as he reads. You really want to sleep. But Peter is right there. He’s warm and soft. He sets his book down and takes his glasses off when he feels you cuddling up to him.

“You tired?” Peter asks, smiling.

“No,” You murmur into his neck.

He rubs your back, making you even more tired.

“Do you wanna see my webs?” He whispers.

You shake your head. “Show me tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

When Peter wakes up, he’s alone in his bed.

He groans, stretching. He heard the shower running, and you singing, and he smiled.

It was already day two of your visit. Peter never wanted it to end, no, the thought of you leaving terrified him. He had already become dependent on your smile to get him through the day. I’m whipped, he thinks as he makes breakfast for you and May.

May emerges from her bedroom with a slight grin.

“Saw you two sleeping in your bed,” She says. “You didn’t have sex, right?”

Peter chokes on his orange juice. He shakes his head with a blush rising on his cheeks and ears.

“Good,” May sighs, “I hated giving you the talk the first time.”

“What talk?” You ask, clueless.

Your skin was all red and slightly wet from your shower. Not to mention that you were only wrapped in a towel. Peter couldn’t form a single thought in his brain.

“Umm,” Peter stammers, “Being safe as Spider-Man. She noticed my latest injuries.”

May nods, tugging at Peter’s ear. “You’re gonna get yourself killed one day!”

You laugh, girlish and loud. Peter watches as you walk away, the urge to tug you back and kiss you is way too primal.

Once you’re dressed and have eaten breakfast, Peter wanted to go for a walk.

It was nice outside. Not too warm, and not too cold. Peter slips an arm around your waist as you walk through Central Park, and you seem none the wiser. He listens to you talk about the latest book you read, because how could he not? You’re beaming and beautiful and so excited about some book he’s never heard of. He thinks he loves you, but he’s not going to think too much about it.

“Was it supposed to rain?” You ask him. “I felt a drop.”

Peter feels one too, along with the guilt of taking you out when it’s about to pour.

“Sorry, bub. I didn’t know it was gonna rain… We can get a cab home if you want,” Peter shrugs, letting go of your waist.

“It’s okay,” You laugh, “I don’t mind getting a little wet!”

Peter’s fingers ghost over yours. You notice what he’s doing, and smile, telling him not to be shy. It was hard for him to not be. When your hand is in his, he feels a little more confident. Secure.

The rain starts coming down, and you mutter something about a paper in your pocket.

“What’s in your pocket?” Peter asks, “You keep digging in there.”

You let go of his hand.

“It’s nothing,” You stop walking to look through every pocket in your shorts. “Ugh, damnit.”

Peter raises an eyebrow, “Okay, what did you lose?”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me,” You whine. “Please. It’s so embarrassing.”

“So much embarrassment for one girl. Just tell me.”

You take a deep breath. “I lost the drawing you gave me.”

Peter ponders for a moment. Did he give you a drawing? He couldn’t even remember.

“Why are you embarrassed?” Peter grins, “That can’t be the right word.”

“Guilty? A terrible friend?” You grumble, hugging Peter. He hoped it was for comfort.

Peter chuckles, hugging you back. The rain is still pouring down on you both.

“It’s okay, lovie,” He smiles, “I’ll draw you something else, okay?”

You nod, still frowning.

Peter knew he didn’t draw you a lot of things. He would make drawings for you, but wouldn’t send them in fear that they were bad. Maybe he’d show them to you soon.

“I bet you can’t beat me to that bench over there,” Peter dares.

A smile spreads across your face. “I bet I can.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You count down from three, and you both start running. Peter immediately starts falling behind, and you can’t tell if he’s doing it purposefully or not. You and Peter’s giggles are some of the only noises around, other than birds chirping.

When you win the race and sit on the bench, he follows close behind.

“Fuck,” Peter gasps, “Why the hell are you so fast?”

Rain is still coming down, but the sun is peaking out. A rainbow is starting to form in the sky.

You blush, “I think you let me win.”

He laughs, still out of breath. “Maybe a little.”

The bench was wet and uncomfortable to sit on. You and Peter were both soaking wet. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, kissing the crown of your head. Peter mutters about something May said before you came; how you would have laughed so hard at her stupid joke. You try to listen, you really do, but Peter’s mouth looks so lovely and kissable. God, you need to get over this crush. Or do something about it.

“What?” Peter finally looks at you, “Is there something on my face-?”

“No. I was- uh, zoning out,” You lie, “Wanna go back home?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “Let’s go, pretty girl.”

Pretty girl, you repeat in your head.

You and Peter get back home and shower, as neither of you wanted to get sick or smell like rain. He watches as you do your makeup afterward, even though you guys aren’t going anywhere.

“It cannot be that interesting to watch a girl do her makeup,” You chuckle.

“Oh, but it is,” Peter says, “I don’t know how you do it.”

You don’t respond, putting your signature lipgloss on instead.

May shuffles past Peter and into the bathroom, she tells you that you look pretty. Peter wants to say something like that, too, but he’s not sure how to word it. “I have a shift,” May says, “I’ll be gone for a while. No funny business, you two!”

“Bye, May,” Peter kisses her cheek goodbye.

You kiss her cheek too, and then she’s gone.

Peter walks off to his bedroom with his face flushed. He’s so annoyed with himself. Why can’t he just tell you he likes you? He could tell Gwen he liked her. He almost hears Gwen’s voice in his head, telling him to go get her. Scoop her up before someone else does. Gwen always knew what was best. God damn her and her wiseness. Before Peter knows it, he’s crying, holding his hands over his mouth and nose to stop the pathetic noises from escaping. He just really needed to tell you. And if you don’t feel the same, then he’ll just shrivel up and die—no big deal.

He pulls himself together before you can notice something being amiss.

“Do you have a roof we can sit on?” You ask, sitting on the kitchen counter.

Peter smiles. “You want to sit on the roof?”

“Yeah!” You beam, “I used to do it as a kid. Almost fell and broke my ankle once.”

“Don’t break your ankle sitting on the counter.”

You scoff, hugging your legs to your chest.

Peter moves around the kitchen. He’s cleaning what doesn’t need to be cleaned-- mostly because he needs to distract himself. You aren’t helping by sitting on the counter and watching his every move.

“So,” You tug Peter’s wrist, “Roof? C’mon, Pete. The sun’s setting. We can’t miss it!”

“It’s not that interesting,” He says, voice monotone. “Usually the same sunset every day.”

“Well, I haven’t been here every day.”

Your determination to sit on the roof almost makes him smile. Almost.

“Fine,” Peter sighs. “If you break a bone, it’s your fault.”

You nod, face flushed, and eyes creased from your bruising smile. Peter worries you’ll get stuck like that; your huge, crooked smile. Not that he would mind you being stuck like this.

When both of you are on the roof, you hand Peter one of your wired earbuds. He takes it and lays himself down on the shingles with you.

“Any song requests?” You smile. That goddamn smile, Peter thinks.

“All These Things That I’ve Done,” Peter says instantly, “You know, The Killers?”

The song starts playing. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard this one,” You confess.

Another head aches,

another heart breaks,

I’m so much older than I can take.

And my affection, well it comes and goes

I need direction to perfection, no, no, no, no--

Peter shrugs, smiling. “I need to introduce you to real music.”

You look over at him, face flushed and a little sweaty because of how hot it is. Peter doesn’t look over at you; he’s too afraid. The fact that he feels nervous and shy because of you makes him smile, but it also scares him. “You’re not looking at the sunset,” Peter remarks. You glance at the sunset. It wasn’t that exciting, like Peter said.

“Peter,” You whisper, “I didn’t want to come out here for the sunset.”

He looks visibly confused. You frown.

“Why are we on the roof, then? I don’t want you up here, Y/N, you’ll get hurt.”

You groan, face falling between your knees.

“I like you, Pete,” You say quietly, so quiet that Peter almost misses it.

“What?” He practically squeaks.

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Peter puts his hand on your knee, he’s smiling. “You like me?”

You whine, trying to get away from him. You slide down the roof and onto the porch, Peter watches and follows. When you stride off to the front door, Peter stops you. He yanks you back with a web, his hands going to your waist. “Those were my webs, if you wanted to know,” He smiles, looking into your eyes.

Laughing, your hands fall on his face. The stubble of facial hair against your palms, his pink cheeks, and his stupidly gorgeous brown eyes were so close.

“For the record,” Peter twirls some of your hair around his fingers, “I like you too. Maybe more than like.”

You look away from his eyes, the fluttering feeling in your stomach becoming too much.

“No,” He whispers, “Look at me.”

You shake your head, smiling and squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t expect him to do anything funny when you did that, but then he kissed your lips, and everything melted.

Peter felt bad that he hadn’t asked first. “Sorry,” He huffs, still holding onto your face.

“Don’t be sorry,” You smile, leaning in and kissing him.

Peter sinks into the kiss, hands roaming around your face and neck. You tried really hard not to make any embarrassing sounds or mess up. It had been a long time since you kissed anyone. Peter didn’t mind, he guided you with pleasure. When he touches his tongue to your bottom lip, you groan. You two were eventually french-kissing on his front porch, still not giving a damn about the sunset.

“We should-” You murmur between kisses, “We should go inside, don’t you think? This is a lot of PDA.”

Peter laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth. He leads you inside and into his room. You have a feeling that you know what’s happening next, and your heart feels heavy. It’s not that you didn’t like Peter. You loved him. You didn’t want to have sex with him, not now at least. And you didn’t want that to be the entirety of the visit.

You couldn’t have been more off.

“Do you wanna go out on a date?” Peter asks, lying down on his bed. “I wanted to take you out before kissing you. The buildup would’ve been nice, you know? But, I just couldn’t help it.”

You stare at him, standing in front of his bed. “What?”

Peter shrugs. “If you don’t wanna go out, that’s cool. I just wanted you to know that I want to be together.”

“You want that?” You ask quietly.

“Do you not?”

That was such a dumb question. Of course, you wanted it. You wanted to be with Peter since junior year of high school when you two first connected and started the letters. It was just a foreign feeling to be wanted for something. Peter was everything you needed and wanted, so why did you feel this nervous bomb in your stomach waiting to explode?

“Bub,” Peter coos, “Come here, will you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

You walk over to Peter, falling into his arms. “You want to be with me?”

“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t,” He assures.

“Oh.”

He laughs, loudly and unapologetically, not at you, but more so at the fact that you didn’t understand that he wanted this. He wanted to be close to you and be able to hug your waist. He wanted everything, only if it was involving you. “I think that when Gwen died, I knew,” Peter says quietly.

“Knew what?”

“I knew that she was right. She’d always tell me to be with you, even though you lived so far. The number of times I talked about you was unreal. I love Gwen, obviously, but she was right about you. You’ve always been my person.” He explains, toying with the necklace around your neck.

You smile, warmth pooling in your chest. Peter smiles too, kissing your knuckles.

“What would we do about distance?” You ask, “I won’t be in Queens forever.”

“I dunno. Maybe we just have to go with the flow and see,” Peter shrugs, “I wish you could be here forever.” He hugs you tighter.

You giggle, kissing down Peter’s hairline. His head remains in your chest, listening to your heart and accepting all of the love you were giving him. Peter was euphoric; practically buzzing with happiness.

He loved you, you loved him, and everything was at peace.

“Are you sure you’re not gonna go spidering?”

Peter groans, throwing a balled-up shirt at your head. He’s attempting to clean his room, but you’re bombarding him about Spider-Man duties.

“Stop calling it that,” He demands, “And no, I’m not going out.”

“Twitter is very concerned about your whereabouts–”

He snatches your phone from your hand, grinning.

Kissing your head, he says; “I’d rather be with you than doing NYPD’s job.”

“They should pay you for saving New York so many times,” You suggest, blushing from his proximity. You could feel the heat radiating off his face.

Peter pecks your lips, slow and loving. You laugh, pushing him away when he starts to kiss down your neck. “Go away,” You giggle.

“Go away?” Peter laughs, “You were begging me to lay by you earlier. What happened to that, honey?”

The soft hum of music plays in the background. City noises are making the walls rattle. Peter is warm and lovely. You want to stay here forever, you think. Peter and you, forever.

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mxlktxa · 10 months

Text

𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯!𝘢𝘶

𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥) 𝘫𝘰𝘦𝘭, 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘢, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 (𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘺𝘢/𝘧𝘢𝘺)

𝘤𝘸; 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯(??)

𝘸𝘤; 1.3𝘬, 7.7𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘵𝘭𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The sound of chuckling and the front door closing had startled me out of my sleep, the clock in my peripheral reading four twenty-four a.m. I pushed myself onto my feet, the cold floor making me flinch in the slightest, but I pushed forward anyway, wanting to see my fiancée, as she had been gone since six p.m. yesterday.

“Ellie? Ellie, where have you been? It’s four in the morning,” upon my arrival in the kitchen, there stood Ellie, glancing up at me while she held her phone to her ear. Who could she be on the phone with at this time? Walking towards her, she seemed to back up just a little bit, holding her hand up to keep me back which made my face twist into confusion.

“No, it’s nothing. I just got home, that’s all. I’ll call you after I wake up,” her tone came off as friendly, but her face showed annoyance and discomfort. I chose to ignore it, rubbing my eyes to try and adjust to the light.

I watched my lover finish up her call, ready to smother her in love as soon as she was available to me. This odd feeling of not having a chance to do so had made me a little upset, almost turned back to the bedroom to wait for her so we could cuddle and go back to sleep.

“Why do you do this?” Ellie brought me out of my thoughts, the question completely flying over my head for all of two seconds.

“Hm?”

“Why do you always have to make yourself known? You saw I was busy and still chose to bother me?” that friendly tone over the phone had been thrown out the window, an uneasy feeling settling in my chest which also made my hands shake out of being so shocked and nervous, “You don’t need to come running to me when I get home all the time.”

“But you’ve always loved when I did that. I’m sorry, I just… You’ve been out since six o'clock yesterday and we had plans too,” the tension felt so thick like you could strangle somebody with it, Ellie rolled her eyes at my words, “I thought I’d wait up for you and we could watch a movie or something.”

“Or you could stop being so clingy and give me some space. You don’t need to know where I am every second of the goddamn day. I have a life and friends that aren’t just you.”

A frown took over my face as I was trying to understand why she was lashing out at me. It’s been like this for the past year, and I never understood why. We blamed it on stress, on personal reasons, on other people. Ellie swore every other day that she would change, make things better yet I’ve seen no improvement from her. It was always me that changed. Stopped doing certain things, cut down on asking her for her time, and spent less time trying to pretty myself up for her to be intimate with me. I even began eating less of anything to see if that might help me. I hated it and I wasn’t sure what to do.

“I didn’t mean to upset—,”

“Say something else for once, fuckin’ christ! If you’re not meaning to upset me then stop doing these things. You’re like a lost little puppy and I’m sick of your shit,” Elie pushed past me to the bedroom, footsteps sure to have the downstairs neighbors complain in the morning.

I subconsciously followed her, proving her ‘lost puppy’ statement. I stood in the doorframe, twiddling my thumbs together, I watched as she furiously got undressed and ready for bed. used to adore watching her settle down for the night but it’s just starting to feel like she was packing things up just to leave me, alone and bummed out in the apartment.

Without even thinking, I spoke up, “Why’ve you been so nasty towards me, Els? I just wanna spend time with you. You’re my fiancée.”

The entire world froze. Tension grew impossibly thicker, my breath caught in my throat while I started to sweat. The shaking in my hands seemed worse now too, eyes darting everywhere but at Ellie to avoid her deadly gaze. Instead of blowing up at me as per usual, Ellie just stayed silent, continuing her preparation to retire for the night.

My feet carried me to the bed, kneeling on it behind her to lean my cheek against her, only to be shrugged off and nudged away. Tears were starting to well up while I just sat staring at her back. I reminisced on the times when Ellie would come home, begging me to hold her and touch her all over and I would just give in, her affection almost overwhelming when I did so.

“Will you be gone in the morning again?”

“Go to sleep,” she spoke bluntly, pulling herself under the covers.

I removed the gold ring from my finger, reaching over to Ellie to place the item on her nightstand. She turned to me with a confused, upset look. I didn’t want to go through with anything if she was only going to proceed with ignoring me and treating me so unfairly. It was odd to see her starting to worry or care after I did this small gesture.

“I’m calling it off,” I muttered, “I don’t wanna be with you anymore since you keep acting like this. I have sat and talked with you about this countless times. I have sat and talked with Joel, Tommy, and Maria about this, and it hurts that they think I should leave too.”

“What?”

“I’m tired of you, Ellie. So sick and tired,” those tears from earlier started to come down to aid my voice cracking, “I’m tired of the arguments, tired of the cold shoulder, tired of crying every time I notice you’re uninterested or that you’re not here after a small argument.”

“Put the ring back on and stop overreacting.”

“No. I know you were on the phone with another girl, and I don’t want to be the third party in my own relationship. I’m calling off the wedding, thank god we haven’t put any money into it yet, and I’m moving out with my sister next month once this lease is over.”

“You really think this is a good—?”

“I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever made in the past year that you’ve treated me like fucking garbage!” my voice cracked completely, cursing myself for being so weak in front of Ellie, “I’m done. We are done.”

Ellie was now sitting up with my ring in her hands, eyes filled with desperation and sorrow, “No, look. We can fix this, I can change.”

“Just stop. You’ve said these exact words so much I’ve memorized them, ‘I can change, and we can be happy again, I love you, babe, just don’t leave’, blah, blah, blah. Well, guess what, Ellie? I’m not sticking around this time,” we both sat in silence as we cried in each other’s presence, “Change of plans, I’ll be packing tomorrow, and I’ll be out of your hair in the next two weeks. You can keep everything here, I don’t care.”

“Baby—,”

“Stop, Ellie, just stop,” getting up from the bed, I gathered my pillows and headed out to the living room, “Just go to sleep,” I used her words from a little bit ago against her, closing the door and sitting on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

I hated how to mean I was, but I needed to put my foot down at some point. I loved Ellie, truly, but I miss the old her. The one who would wake me out of my sleep just to get a slushie from the nearby gas station, the Ellie that would suffocate me with hugs and kisses, the Ellie that promised me since high school that we would be a ‘forever thing’. Guess we were being delusional.

This was going to take me so long to get over and I hate myself for being so attached. I wish I didn’t have to deal with any of these feelings. I wished I could just feel… numb.

𝘢𝘯; 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳/𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺

#the last of us #the last of us p2 #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #tlou imagine #ellie imagine #x reader #reader insert #imagine #𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ⋆˚✿˖°

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hwascripts · 1 year

Text

Hellish Fevers

Desc: It's flu season in the Devildom. Good thing Beelzebub is here to be your caretaker (and your personal space heater)

Pairing: Beelzebub (Obey Me!) x GN!Reader

Tags: Literally just fluff. Beel also makes a bad joke about eating you.

Wanna see more? Head over to my directory

A/n: This has been brewing for like two weeks now? Funnily enough I finished this while recovering from a cold.

1:19 AM The clock displays in bold, neon red blocks. You sigh for the millionth time that night, your eyelids aching for rest. But how could you sleep? How could anyone sleep with a fever like this?

If anyone had warned you earlier that flu season was a real thing in the devildom, AND it was 10x worse than a bad cold in the human world, you would’ve stocked up on a pharmacy’s worth of vitamins. But no, here you were, sicker than all hell and damn miserable too.

Your nose felt like someone had plugged it with cotton, and your head felt no better. A raging headache that not even the strongest painkiller could quell.

That was the case until Beelzebub showed up moments later, nearly knocking down your door, his arms filled with items you couldn't make out.

“Why didn't you tell anyone you’re sick?” he asks, setting everything down on your night table. Upon closer inspection, Beelzebub had brought a hot cup of tea, snacks and some more cold medication.

“How did you know I was sick?” You question, watching as he moves to stir some honey into your tea. He wordlessly hands it to you before standing in front of your bed.

“I heard you coughing as I was heading down to the kitchen. You sounded real sick. You look real sick too” Beel states, his large hand resting on your forehead.

“Burning up” He mutters, hand sliding downwards to caress your face gently. A blissful sigh leaves your lips. His hand felt so warm against your skin.

You nuzzle your face into Beelzebub’s hand, desperately chasing after the warmth his body always provides. On any other occasion, you’d be embarrassed about nuzzling up to him like a clingy cat. But hell, you were sicker than ever before, and he willingly played the caretaker role.

“Cold?” He asks, hand resting against your forehead again. You nod, only giving a slight cough and sniffle in response. Beel frowns.

You moan in discontent when the demon pulls his hand away, only to make a slight noise of surprise when he pulls back your bed covers and gestures for you to move over. You shift over to the other side of the bed, giving enough room for the massive demon to slip in beside you.

“I’ll keep you warm if that's okay?”Beelzebub asks as he sits down at the edge of the bed, waiting for your permission. You look up at him, an adorable look of concern plastered on his face.

“But won’t you get sick?” You question, voice muffled as you sip on the tea he brewed for you. Your eyes flutter shut at the way the honey soothes your throat. Beel shakes his head, a gentle smile on his face as he watches you enjoy the tea.

“No, the only thing that makes me sick is Solomon’s cooking. I accidentally ate some of the cookies he made, and I couldn't eat anything for a full twelve hours- it was horrible!” Beel grimaces at the memory. You giggle quietly.

“My condolences for that awful experience” You tease, wincing when your aching throat sends you into a coughing fit. Beel softly rubs your back.

“It’s okay. Now I’ve learned how to spot Solomon’s cooking” He grins. You laugh silently before looking him in the eyes, signalling for him to slide into the bed with you. He takes your cup of tea and places it on the side table.

Beel wordlessly shuffles into the bed with you, his warmth radiating through the bed without him even touching you. He pulls the covers back up to your shoulders.

“Is it okay if I hold you?” He asks, violet eyes looking at you. You nod. He wastes no time pulling you against him. His long, muscular arms hold you securely against his chest. Soft, pleased noises escape your lips as his warmth surrounds your body.

“You’re almost like a cat” Beelzebub comments, snickering quietly. You stare up at him, your tired eyes blinking at him.

“And you’re like a heated blanket” You yawn, face snuggling against his chest. His heartbeat fills your ears. The steady sound of it makes it incredibly hard to stay awake.

It surely doesn’t help when his hand rests against your head, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your throbbing temple.

“Get some sleep. Your body needs it” He hums, continuing to rub your temple gently. You’re in no position to fight, your body listening to his command.

“Thank you, Beel” You yawn sleepily, shutting your eyes. Beel only hums in response, his chin resting on your shoulder.

The two of you lay there quietly, cuddled in each other's arms. The only sound to be heard is your soft breathing. That is until a grumble from Beel’s stomach meets your ears.

“Sorry...I ate a bunch of Mammon’s hellfire noodles” Beelzebub murmurs. You roll your eyes.

“So long as you don't accidentally eat me, we’re good.”

“Sick humans don't taste good.”

You stiffen in his hold.

“That was just a joke.”

You exhale in relief.

“Kinda...”

“Beelzebub!”

The demon in question only laughs at your scolding, once again reassuring you it was just a poorly attempted joke before telling you to take a nap. Finally, you relax into his arms, allowing sleep to take over your exhausted body. Beelzebub softly smiles as your sleeping form, his hand caressing your back.

“Get better soon, alright?” He mumbles, shutting his own eyes and falling asleep beside you.

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alyswritings · 1 year

Text

Ran Away

Request: hii ❤️ could i possibly request jj maybank x daughter! reader where no one has seen her in days and everyone is worried sick and she comes back late at night and at first he gets kind of mad but then she says his father beat her up and he takes care of her and goes after him? 🥹

JJ Maybank x daughter!reader

Summary: JJ snaps after learning why his daughter ran away.

Warnings: mentions of parental abuse, physical violence

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

"Why isn't she back?" JJ paces in the living room. "It's been four fucking days. What i-- what if she's dead?"

"JJ, she's not dead." Kie tries to comfort.

"How the fuck would we know that, though?" JJ questions. "We don't. Because she's not answering her phone and she doesn't have her location on, I haven't heard from her in four fucking days! Wh-- how did she just disappear?"

"Well, have... have you guys been fighting recently or anything? Anything that would make her wanna run away?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, you know, fights with you or friends? A boy? School troubles?" Pope asks.

"No. No, nothing. That... that I know of anyway." JJ says, scratching his head. "We haven't fought about anything. I mean, we have those teasing arguments, but-but we've been getting along and shit."

"Okay, well, least we know the problem isn't you." John B says.

"But what if it is? What if I-- what if I haven't been giving her enough attention or something? What if she thinks I don't love her or something?" JJ asks.

"JJ, your attention is split between four things -- your job, us, beer, and Y/N." Kie says. "And most of that goes to your daughter. She knows you love her."

"Look, we'll-- we'll go drive around, go to where she hangs out. See if we can find her again." Sarah says, getting up.

"Yeah." John B nods, getting up. "Man, we love her, too, okay? We'll do anything to help you find her."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." JJ mumbles, biting his nail. "Thank you, guys."

"Anytime. We'll split the places up. See if that helps." Pope says, Kie nodding in agreement.

"She's smart, she has at least some of your survival skills. She'll know what to and not to do." Kie says.

"We'll call you if we find her." Sarah says, gently squeezing her friend's arm.

"Well, if you find her, bring her back home so I can smother her in hugs and kisses and then kick her ass." JJ says, plopping down onto the couch.

"You got it." John B salutes him, the four leaving.

- - -

JJ is half asleep on his bed when he hears the front door shut. He jolts awake, looking around. He hears somebody walking around the house, but they don't say anything. JJ grabs the baseball bat that's by the bed.

JJ creeps out of the room and down the hall to the living room. He holds the bat up, ready to swing. He hears the freezer shut and then the person walks more.

JJ yells as he comes out of hiding with the bat, the person screaming, and cowering away, dropping whatever was in their hands. JJ's eyes focus on the person, recognizing her even in the dark.

"Y/N/N?" He asks.

"Hi." She quietly says.

"Oh, my God." JJ sighs, dropping the bat. "God, you scared the hell out of me."

"Yo-- you almost killed me." Y/N retorts.

"Well, don't go sneaking into your own house." JJ says. "Wait, wait, wait, no. Who the fuck cares about sneaking in. Where the fuck have you been for four days?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Y/N says, looking down.

"Well, too fucking bad, Y/N. You had me worried sick. You had your aunts and uncles worried sick. You left The Wreck mid-shift and you never went back. Do you know how terrifying that was?"

"Sorry." Y/N mumbles.

"Are you okay?" JJ asks, realizing that should've been his first question.

"Yeah. Ye-yeah, I'm fine." Y/N says, looking down, scratching the top of her head, her hair hiding her face from him.

"Y/N, I'm serious. Are you okay?" He asks again.

"Yes." She insists. "Look, can we-- can we talk about this in the morning?" Y/N asks.

"No. Because now that you're okay, I am going to ground you for eternity, Y/N!" JJ exclaims, his anger building back up. "You cannot just run away for days! Not answer your phone, not tell anybody! I thought you got kidnapped or-or were dead in some fucking ditch or halfway across the world after being sold in human trafficking or something!"

"Some bitch-ass kook could've gotten to you and you're not answering your phone, so I wouldn't know!"

"It died the other day." Y/N says.

"Which is another reason to come home! Seriously, Y/N, you have very little money, and you're the most common for some sicko to grab off the street and--"

"I'm sorry, okay?!" Y/N exclaims, letting a sob out. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to see."

"See what, Y/N?" JJ asks, his voice calmer, concern filling it, but still a bit angry.

Y/N sniffles, walking over to the wall, and she flips the light switch. She turns back to her dad, tucking her hair behind her ears, letting him see the bruises that cover her face, tears running down her face. She's still wearing the same clothes from four days ago, a cropped tank top and some shorts, the bruises on her legs, arms, stomach, chest, and neck visible as well. The injuries look bad enough now, he doesn't even want to imagine them fresh.

JJ feels his heart freeze at the state of his daughter. The anger in his eyes is quickly replaced by sadness as he physically feels his heart break. Tears gather in his eyes at her looking so broken, covered in bruises and crying.

JJ slowly walks over to her, hesitantly reaching up and carefully cupping her face. He inspects her injuries closer, rage bubbling up the longer he stares at her discolored skin.

"Who did this to you?" He quietly asks, a murderous look growing in his usually soft blue eyes.

"I... you, um... you-you don't wanna know." Y/N says, sniffling.

"Baby girl." JJ makes her look at him. He makes sure to not press on any of the bruises, knowing that'll hurt her more. "Who did this? Tell me. I'm your dad, I need to know." He states. Y/N stares at him, the worry and anger practically radiating off of him.

"Lu... Luke." She says, her voice so quiet JJ can't hear her clearly.

"What?" He asks.

Y/N glances up at him, returning her gaze to his chest so she doesn't have to see the look in his eyes when she breaks the news.

"Your dad." She says, but a little louder this time causing her voice to crack. She can feel JJ's grip on her loosen as he straightens up, shock coursing through him.

JJ's jaw drops slightly in surprise, his eyes widening at her answer.

"Wh-- where the hell were you that he could do this?" JJ asks.

"I... he-he ordered out from the-- The Wreck. I... I was the one delivering to go orders that day. I... I didn't think anything would happen, so I went there to just drop the food off and-and go, but he... he recognized me and he wouldn't let me leave and-- and I guess I did something to make him mad because he just started to-- to--"

Y/N cuts herself off as she sobs. Her shoulders harshly shake with her cries and JJ immediately pulls her into a tight hug.

"Shh, shh, shh." JJ coos, scratching her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Shh, princess. You didn't do anything wrong, baby." He assures. "You didn't do a thing. Not a single thing. He's a dick, it's not your fault." He comforts, resting his head on top of hers. His heart is broken, but yet it's so full of rage, he swears he could actually kill his father right now. Guilt forms in his stomach, feeling horrible that she had to be near his dad and go through that kind of thing, especially alone.

JJ continues to hold Y/N while she sobs into his chest. After a while, she pulls away a bit, but JJ keeps her close.

"I... I didn't come home because I-- I knew you would get angry and I didn't wanna make you angry and... and I know your dad isn't the easiest subject and--"

"Hey, hey, hey. I wouldn't have been mad at you." JJ says, his hand cupping the back of her neck.

"Not for... for going to take him the food? You're not mad I put myself in the situation? You always tell me to stay away from him. I knowingly went to him."

"Baby girl, no. No. Look, you were doing your job. Would I have preferred somebody else taking him his food? Fuck, yes. I'm not angry at you, though. I'm beyond pissed at him, but none of that anger is for you. Okay? I just-- God, I'm so happy you're alive." He sighs, pulling her back into a hug.

"You're safe now. You're safe. Nobody's gonna get you. I promise." JJ tells her.

- - -

After eventually managing to stop her tears, JJ helped Y/N ice some of the bruises. She took a much needed shower before going to JJ's room, refusing to be alone.

With JJ comforting her, Y/N managed to fall asleep quickly, especially given she hadn't slept much the past few days.

JJ lays in his bed, holding Y/N as close as he can, his mind racing with thoughts.

When she was born, JJ had promised himself he would make sure Luke never put a single hand on Y/N. Never touched one single strand of hair on her head. But he failed that. Fifteen years later and he broke his promise.

JJ was still living with his dad when Y/N was born which resulted in JJ spending every night at the chateau. He rarely went home, really only going when he needed something he left in his room. And he couldn't always leave Y/N back with one of his friends, so he'd have to take her sometimes.

He made sure to keep as much distance between his daughter and father as he could. He worked his ass off to make sure that Y/N would never have to live in that house -- ever. And she never did.

JJ was successful in keeping his daughter away from the horrors of his dad for most of her life, but one stupid shift at work and she's fallen victim of his abuse.

JJ's grip on Y/N tightens as he starts to cry, doing his best to muffle the sobs. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head, leaving his mouth there as tears silently stream down his face. His eyes squeeze shut, hoping to contain the tears, but they just make them fall faster.

"I'm so sorry, baby girl." He quietly cries over his sleeping daughter. "I'm sorry. You were never supposed to get hurt. Not by him." He takes his best attempt at a deep breath, another sob escaping. "He was never supposed to touch you. I'm sorry." He kisses her head again a few more times.

JJ soon manages to get control of his tears, holding any remaining ones back, not wanting to risk waking Y/N up. He runs his hand over her head, trying to dry her hair of his tears. JJ presses a long kiss to her forehead, lingering for a few moments as he strokes her hair.

- - -

It's the next day and JJ made pancakes, Y/N eating as much as she could, not having gotten a lot of food over the past few days. She's quieter than usual, not her normal upbeat self.

JJ understands, but wishes that Luke wouldn't have dimmed her spark.

There's a knock on the front door followed by it opening and Y/N tenses up.

"It's okay." JJ quietly assures, noticing her reaction.

"Hey, yo!" They hear John B call out.

"Just your aunts and uncles." JJ says making Y/N relax. The four walk into the kitchen, all excited to see the teenager.

"I'm so glad you're okay." Kie says, hugging her. "Well... um... alive." She winces.

"Thanks." Y/N mumbles, smiling a little before accepting hugs from the other three.

They get settled, just talking with each other while the pogues eat some of the food.

"Okay, uh... I have to go and get some stuff from the store." JJ says.

"Well, we can go for you." Pope offers.

"Nah, no. No, I got it." JJ assures. "You good with them, baby?" He asks Y/N, brushing her hair behind her shoulder.

"Yeah. Can we play games and watch movies when you get back?" Y/N asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, whatever you want." JJ says. He kisses her on the forehead before grabbing his keys and going to the door.

"Hey, hey, hey, man." John B chases after him. "Hey." He stops JJ as he opens the door.

"What?" JJ asks.

"Look, I know where you're going." John B says.

"Man..." JJ shakes his head.

"I'm not trying to stop you. I get it. Just... just be careful. At least come back half alive for her sake." John B says.

"I will." JJ nods. He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

- - -

After speeding to his dad's house, JJ turns the car off, climbing out of it. He storms up to the house, slamming the door open.

"Hey! Hey, what business you got doing that?!" Luke shouts, getting up, and he notices his son. "What the fuck you doing here?"

JJ doesn't answer, just delivering a punch to Luke's face. Luke groans, stumbling back. JJ hits him a few more times before slamming him against the wall.

"You hurt my fucking kid!" JJ growls.

"What?" Luke asks.

"Y/N. You know, the innocent teenager who had to bring you food from The Wreck about a week ago."

"Oh, yeah. Your little bitch."

JJ punches Luke, kneeing him in the stomach.

"She's your fucking granddaughter! You're such a lowlife piece of shit, you beat your innocent granddaughter for no fucking reason?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"She had an attitude." Luke defends.

JJ punches Luke again. Going to hit him again, Luke gets the upper hand, punching JJ. Luke delivers a few more punches until JJ overpowers him, slamming his dad into the coffee table making it break. JJ kicks his father repeatedly in the abdomen.

"You hurt my fucking kid! It's bad enough you had me scared of you for years, but now you have her, and that's crossing the motherfucking line!" JJ screeches. "You ever lay another hand on my daughter again, and that'll be the last thing you ever fucking do!"

He kicks Luke again, storming out, leaving his beaten father behind.

- - -

JJ stopped by the store after going to Luke's and then returned home. He has a black eye and bruised cheek along with bloody knuckles. Hearing the door and rustling bags, Y/N quickly ditches her aunts and uncles to see her dad.

"Hey." Y/N softly greets, pulling on the sleeves of JJ's hoodie she's wearing.

"Hey, baby. You okay?" JJ asks, focusing on putting groceries up, mostly so Y/N can't see his face.

"Given everything." Y/N says, shrugging.

"Keeping the ice up?" He asks.

"Yeah. Uncle Pope and Aunt Kie are really strict about it." Y/N says.

"Yeah, they are the strict ones." JJ chuckles. He turns to get more groceries, Y/N's eyes widening at his bruises.

"What happened?" Y/N asks.

"Hmm?" JJ looks at her.

"You have bruises." She says, glancing at his hands. "And bloody knuckles."

"I-- baby, don't worry, I'm fine." JJ dismisses, putting more stuff up.

"You went to grandpa's house, didn't you?" Y/N asks.

"Do not call him "grandpa."" JJ orders, pointing a finger at her. "He doesn't deserve to be called that. Or "dad" for that matter."

"But you went there, right?" Y/N asks. JJ sighs, knowing he can't really lie to her.

"Okay, so-- so maybe I did." JJ says.

"Daddy..." Y/N frowns.

"Baby, I'm fine. Okay. I'm all right. Hell, you should see the other guy." JJ says, but Y/N doesn't any humor in it. He sighs, walking over to her and he cups her face. "I was not letting him get away with any of this. Trust me, he deserves what happened today and worse."

"I don't like when you fight." Y/N mumbles.

"I know. I'm sorry, baby. No more fights, I promise. Besides, if he has a single brain cell left, he'll know to stay away from you and me." JJ says.

"Aren't you hurt? Just... just by the fact that he does it? Or scared? Sad?" Y/N asks.

"I'm more bothered that he did it to you. Unlike you, I'm a little used to it." JJ says with a pained smile.

"That's really not funny." Y/N frowns.

"I know." JJ mumbles. "But let's just forget about it, okay? Let's go watch movies and play games like you wanted, hmm? Get our minds off all this."

"Okay." Y/N says, standing up, starting to leave.

"Hey, hey, hey." JJ gently pulls her back. "I'm okay. Really." He promises. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Y/N says, hugging him. JJ hugs her back, kissing her on the head.

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maccreadysbaby · 1 month

Text

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

the one chapter in this whole fic where bentley makes a rational decision

part thirty-nine

❝ UNLOVABLE ❞

TUESDAY — SEPTEMBER 8 — 11:07 AM

BENTLEY WOKE UP SO DISORIENTED AND FUZZY AND CONFUSED THAT HE JUST STARTED CRYING.

There were bright white lights in his face, and he wasn’t in his bed anymore, he was somewhere else. There were people moving around him, but he didn’t pay attention long enough to decide who, only long enough to decide he was terrified and wanted Bruce. What time was it? No idea. What day was it? No idea. Was he at the hospital? Was something really wrong with him?

“Whoa, hey… hey there, chum. You’re okay,”

Bentley relished in the familiar voice, peeling his heavy, kind of sticky, newly-wet eyes open to glance around the room. It took a solid minute for his brain to catch up to his vision, but when it did, he realized he was in the cave, and Bruce was sitting right next to the bed he was laying in.

He tried to bring his hands up to hide his crying eyes, but paused mid-movement when he realized he was attached to a drip.The movement also seemed to trigger a wave of soreness that washed through his whole body.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay. Just relax. You’re here, with me, in the cave. Everything’s okay,” Bruce spoke in his typical level, gentle tone, one of his hands landing on Bentley’s forehead like it always seemed to. Though, for some reason, he looked… really tired. Worn down.

Bentley breathed in and out shakily, gathering his bearings, trying to stop crying for no reason for the five millionth time in his short life. (Seriously, he had to be setting a record at this point.) Instead, he relaxed back down onto the bed and let Bruce card his fingers through his hair.

“Where’s… Nico?” Was the first thing he managed to whisper.

Bruce got a strange look on his face, before he replied: “Bentley… you’ve been down here for five days. Nico and Asten went home. It’s Tuesday.”

Bentley blinked a few times. It was Tuesday? He had been… he had been completely out of it for five whole days?

He looked around the empty room warily. “What? What happened?”

Bruce sighed softly, brushing his opposite hand through his own hair. “Someones been fiddling with your DNA, and it made you pretty sick.”

Oh. Right. Superpowers. Bentley looked down at his own feet under the cottony blanket, exhaling subtly.

“Bentley,”

He looked back up at Bruce, who had a little smile on his face.

“I will never, ever, ever get rid of you,” He reassured, sighing lightly. “I promise.”

Bentley looked down at his hands, exhaling shakily before he muttered: “My… my father told me… he never loved me. And, uh, that he never would.”

Bruce stayed silent for a moment.

Bentley breathed in and out. It was now or never, wasn’t it? The hard questions had to be asked so things could be fixed, right? “Will you tell me the truth?”

“Of course, bud. Anything,”

Bentley twiddled his fingers, purposefully keeping his eyes away from Bruce when he whispered: “Why is it so hard for people to love me?”

Bruce’s blue eyes grew grim, and he scooted his chair closer to the bed with a squeak. “Bentley Whittaker, you are not hard to love. In fact, you’re almost impossible not to love.”

Bentley looked away, breathing in to force away the urge to cry. “Then why doesn’t he love me?”

Bruce sighed lightly. “That’s his own choice, his own problem. It has nothing to do with you. You are an incredible, brave, amazing kid, Bentley, and I loved you the very first day Dick brought you to me.”

A moment of silence passed.

“Hey,” Bruce continued, his hand moving through Bentley’s hair again, and the child finally looked over at him with slightly glassy eyes. “You could set the whole world on fire and I’d still tell everybody you’re mine.”

Bentley looked down at his feet, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to burn. Did that mean that maybe Bruce wouldn’t hate him for all the things he did? And he wouldn’t get rid of him? And he could stay and keep living with them even though he was an emotional, irrational trainwreck of a child?

Bentley sniffled. “I’m…” Cold? Lonely? Tired of lying? “Can you hold me?”

In one smooth movement, minding the IV tubes, Bentley was with Bruce in the chair.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I wish you were my father,”

A few beats came and went, and Bruce kissed Bentley’s hair.

“I am,”

Oh, God — there it was. The one statement that utterly broke Bentley. That changed something inside of him just like his real father’s statement had. Something cracked. Something moved.

And so Bentley did what Bentley had been so determined not to do for literal weeks.

“You promise you won’t hate me?” He muttered into Bruce’s shirt, making himself small there, tucking his knees up.

“I could never hate you, Bentley,”

Bentley breathed in and out. Once. Twice. Three times. Maybe it really was the right time. Maybe he really should do it — just get it over with. Nico would’ve done it. It was good. It would make everything better, right? Right?

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Is what he started out with, but then backtracked, because that was not a great place to start. “I mean, no, I was. I was. But, the… uh… the night you guys thought I went missing I actually… uh… I ran away.”

Bruce said nothing, but didn’t make a disapproving sound or expression, either. So Bentley continued.

“I guess… uh… I guess it really started back when… right before school. Or right after, I can’t remember. Something was wrong with Damian. And I tried to talk to him but he got mad…” Bentley cleared his throat. “He told me I wasn’t worthy enough to be a Wayne. That I didn’t belong here and you only had me because you felt bad for me.”

At that, Bruce let out a little sigh.

“I think he was kind of sad, I dunno… I know he didn’t really want to hurt me. I think. But he did anyways,” Bentley shook his head. “And I started looking at everybody, at Dick and Jason and Tim and Damian and Cass and Steph and Duke and… Y’know. They’re all superheroes. Really cool superheroes. And a bunch of them were Robin, and I obviously can’t be Robin, but… I… I had to do something, you know? I wanted to be good enough. So… uh… Asten and Nico and I decided that… uh… we were going to go after the Secret Keeper. Because I could prove that I belonged here if I caught a villain like you guys do.”

“So you left, in pursuit of her?” Bruce inquired gently.

Bentley nodded. “Yeah. Asten found some connections between the missing people and the Areopagus and Dr. Keene, my teacher, and found this cabin in the woods that he owned that a bunch of the victims had stayed in, so we went to check it out. Which… sounds pretty random and dumb, now, I guess…”

Silence passed.

“Uh… he found all that out by finding all the locations of where the people went missing and… uh… well. We kinda… stole Dr. Keene’s phone to get to the cabin schedules and stuff…” Bentley fiddled with his fingers awkwardly. “I know it was bad… but we wanted to help. So, uh, we met up at Nico’s house and started going to the cabin.”

Bentley exhaled heavily. Telling the truth felt strangely… good.

“We walked for a long time, and stopped by Asten’s house in Crime Alley for him to get something, and that was when Nico told me he was adopted and when I realized he had superpowers. Real ones — he has superspeed. And, well, that didn’t go over so well. He was… is really struggling with it. But, uh, anyways, Asten came back and then the Secret Keeper knocked me out and showed me all kinds of futures. Ones where I die, where I work with my father, where I was Robin… and she told me my choice to go to the cabin would lock me in and out of some. So I chose to keep going.”

Bruce still didn’t respond, keeping the door open for Bentley to continue.

“We broke into the cabin. And, uh, it looked pretty normal… at first. And then we found a trapdoor that led to the basement. Asten told me it was called a morgue,” Bentley shivered at the thought. “We opened up one of the fridges and… it was scary. I had an anxiety attack. Nico threw up in the floor. But Asten was fine, I think, and there was this computer down there that had tons of videos on it. Of our teacher, Dr. Keene, working in these labs, turning normal people into metahumans. The first one he did was his own daughter, Charlie Reins… who became The Secret Keeper. And he mind controls them all.”

Bruce exhaled.

“A bunch of the missing kids were in those videos, like Titus Lancaster and Davis Henderson. And we learned that… that… Dr. Keene was… is working for… my father. Trying to destroy you. That’s why the Secret Keeper has been attacking us. Because of me…” Bentley inhaled sharply. “Anyways, we were down there and we heard someone coming, so… we… hid in some of the fridges. Which wasn’t fun. I don’t remember much from then because I was freaking out. We ran out of the cabin and everyone was scared and Asten got his foot stuck in a bear trap and we were trying to help him and then there was a grenade and we all got knocked out.”

Bentley exhaled, sort of shaky, cringing at himself. Word vomiting wasn’t usually something people liked, but Bruce didn’t seem to mind.

“And I woke up in a warehouse, but I wasn’t actually there because it was just the Secret Keeper. I saw Jason die, and it… was really scary. I… I saw you. And I begged you to bring me home but it wasn’t really you…” Bentley fought back another round of stinging in his eyes and forced himself to get it together. “Then I woke up. Davis Henderson, the waiter that got knocked out at that bar because of me, he was there and he got me out of the machine before they could do mind control, he said.”

Bruce nodded slightly. “I remember hearing about Davis.”

“Yeah. He has to wear these super huge metal gloves now, because he kills anything he touches. His mind control was broken. So he got me out, and then we went to get Nico and Asten. And I got shot. Which was scary. And… he told us about Titus Lancaster, who can teleport, and he was going to have surgery to get new mind control so he didn’t have it then. And Davis told us to find him and that he could teleport us out,” He explained. “So we ran for a while. Lots of people were killed. Davis killed a lot of bad guys that were shooting at us, and… Nico did, too, but he didn’t mean to. He has air powers now that can make you choke.”

Bruce hummed.

“But when we were running out the Secret Keeper showed up. So Davis told us to run and he fought her. I’m not sure what happened but I hope he’s okay. He saved me…” Bentley cleared his throat. “But we found Titus, who was really scared, and he teleported us to the manor. And Asten told us not to tell anyone so I… didn’t. And you know everything that’s happened since I got home. Oh — except… I went to see my father to try and convince him to stop, but he said no. And that if I told anybody anything I knew he’d use a plan b that would destroy all of Gotham. But I don’t know what it is. Oh, and Asten has fire powers. And… I guess that’s everything you didn’t know.”

Bentley sighed and looked up at Bruce, who looked near-emotionless, processing all of the information he’d just had dumped in his lap.

“I… I know those things were bad, and that I should’ve told you, and that I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done, but please, please, please don’t get rid of me. I’ll be better — I won’t do anything bad again. Please don’t-“

“Bentley,”

The Bentley in question was starting to cry again. “Please don’t get rid of me, Bruce. I promise I’ll be better. I promise. You can get me in trouble and yell at me and lock me up or hit me like my dad used to, but please just don’t get rid of me.”

“Bentley. Look at me please,”

Begrudgingly, Bentley looked up, his brown, watery eyes meeting Bruce’s icy blue ones.

“Please don’t get rid of me. I love you,”

Bruce breathed in and out. “Here’s what I have to say, okay? You’re right. Some of those things you did were risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, and you were impressively, almost stupidly brave to do them. All because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”

Bentley looked down, wiping at his furiously leaking eyes with his non-dripped hand.

“Do you want to know what one of the most defining traits of a Wayne is?” Bruce questioned, glancing down at Bentley with a smile that threw the child for a loop. “Being impressively and stupidly brave, and doing things that are risky, reckless, dangerous, and wrong, all because you want to be loved and accepted and validated.”

Bentley said nothing.

“Every single person in this family, Bentley, has done something like this. Even me. Some of us more than once. And while I can’t say I’m thrilled about what you did or what you went through… You survived, you told me the truth, and you were trying to do the right thing. And, I’d have to say, all things considered, I’m pretty proud of that,” Bruce stated with a smile. “I am proud of you, Bentley. And I love you. So. Much. You’re pretty much stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

Bentley had never felt more relieved in his entire short life. Bruce loved him, and he wasn’t going to get rid of him, and he wasn’t mad at him… what kind of fever dream was this? How was it going just like Bentley hoped it would?

“Hey, bud, I want to ask you something. And I want you to be totally, completely honest, okay? Your answer needs to be yours and only yours,”

Bentley nodded slightly, still wiping at his eyes.

Bruce breathed in deep, running a hand over the child’s head with this fond gleam in his eyes that before now, Bentley could have only dreamed of.

“You’ve been living here for almost a year. Fostering for over half of it,” Bruce exhaled. “I think this is as good of a time as any to ask… how do you feel about being adopted, like Dick, Jason, and Tim?”

Bentley freaking lost his mind.

(In the arms of his dad?)

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

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