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#not sleeping or eating but feeling so anxious all i can hope to do is exert as much energy as possible is not sustainable
absolutelynoterica · 2 months
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The fish rots from the head
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luveline · 9 months
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Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling
thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k
Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 
Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 
You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 
Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 
"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 
"Then leave me alone," he says. 
Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 
He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 
You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 
The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 
You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 
You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 
From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 
"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 
You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 
You struggle to see him in the dark. 
"I should never have spoken to you like that." 
Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 
"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 
"I'm too tired," you mumble. 
Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 
You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 
"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 
"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 
You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 
"I love you," you say. 
"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 
"So don't be sorry." 
"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 
"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 
"I know," he utters. 
You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 
"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 
You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 
His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 
"I love you," he says into it. 
You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 
"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.
You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 
"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 
You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 
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it really doesn't feel like there's any safe spaces for me to actually take apart and work through what happened to me as a child and a teenager, and it hurts me so much because i want to get over it but i cannot do it alone.
#i feel not the worst i've ever felt but not as hopeful as i expected to feel at this moment#i feel terrified of the future and what i will be opening up by taking on certain things#i am thinking of him again so much#i had a dream about a friend thats not around anymore and waking up wanting to text her and remembering i can't is just#i miss him so much but not really#i found out one of the most important people in my life is leaving and moving away and i don't know if i'll get to see her again tbh#i don't know if i can confide to others i know i am a lot i know they have their own burdens but i am feeling so alone#my supervisor even had a heart to heart with me last night and i just couldn't open up but i really wanted to#i know i get triggered this time of year because of him and i fucking wish so badly i could see him and talk to him again and get answers#but he would gaslight me like he did last time he will never change no matter how much i wish he would#and i still worry endlessly about the day i find out hes gone because he went too far finally#i wish i was better at confrontation and i wish i felt less alone#i tell myself i will be okay and i believe i will be at some point but it is not easy#i went insane last year and i don't want to kill myself i really don't i don't want to fall to that point its so scary because#i want to live#im so angry im nervous and anxious im terrified im hungry all the time bc i never eat im tired because i csnt sleep in my house#i don't know what to do i don't know how to change for the better im stuck here in this state
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sexlapis · 6 months
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Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~
Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D
thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.
and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)
cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(
wc: 2k+
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you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.
sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.
admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.
sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.
you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.
there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.
toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.
“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.
“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.
“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”
“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.
fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.
but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.
so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.
“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.
“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”
you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.
it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-
you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.
“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”
you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”
and then there is black.
౨ৎ
you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.
“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.
oh, toji’s here.
“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.
“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.
“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”
“oh.”
toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.
“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”
you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.
toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”
the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.
“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.
“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”
you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”
toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.
“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.
“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.
you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.
“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”
you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”
“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”
“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.
“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”
you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.
“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”
“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”
“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”
you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.
“yeah, i do.” you agree.
suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.
toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”
you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.
toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”
“i will if there’s food involved.”
“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”
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a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3
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starofthesea7 · 1 year
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König~Worship the King
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Your eyes traced the huge mass of muscle in front of you. Fresh from the field, he looked exhausted, primal- his canvas pants still splattered with mud and god knows what else. Arms shiny with sweat and rain, leg bouncing absentmindedly, his head was still a void, swimming with pictures of death and devastation. His eyes were focused on a bowl of stew, dwarfed by his huge, muscled hands. Pale fingers against white ceramic.
‘You can take the mask off to eat your food, I have to clean up your face anyway. In fact I should look at that first.” Your voice was soft, hesitant. Afraid of startling him, even though little could do so.
Dark fabric folded as he shook his head gently. “After. I don’t want it to…” he searched for the word in English, “to scare you. Yet” His voice was rough and tired, laced thickly with an accent, german. Your heart twinged at his words.
“You couldn’t scare me.” You attempted a reassuring smile. König. King. A very fitting name for the enigma in front of you, and yet in some ways not fitting at all. True he was imposing. Large. Stately. Yet he was gentle, anxious, even, when he was in close proximity to others. Under scrutiny. He was anxious when it came to people, most of all you. He was good at hiding it though, to you it seemed an aloofness, perhaps even a polite disinterest, that he felt towards you. A simple nod in greeting as he passed you was the most you could hope to receive.
Now you stood in between his enormous thighs which he’d spread just far enough apart to avoid grazing yours, the air between them thick with tension. You rolled up his dark sleeve, doing your best to ignore the rippling muscle beneath. They way it flexed which each ascent of his spoon, before it disappeared underneath black cloth, then reappeared, empty. He barely flinched as you dabbed an alcohol pad across the gaping wound on his shoulder. Blood glistened carmine.
Oxymoron was a more fitting name, you thought. Perhaps it was too long for a nickname. He truly was a paradox, though. So colossal, yet reserved. So immense yet quiet, even gentle. He was a man of few words. A wave waiting to crash, or a volcano waiting to erupt.
Your voice broke the silence, surprising you both. It felt small. “Feel okay?” He was nervous, although you couldn’t see it, underneath the mask. He wasn’t really afraid of you, more afraid of hurting you, or scaring you. With his weight. His scars, his is strength.
His eyes raised to meet yours. Although he was sitting, they were level with your own. A cold, pale olive green. “Ja. Thank you. I am sorry for waking you for this little scratch.” When you’d gotten a call that he’d needed a small patch job, admittedly you’d jumped at the chance to see him. You’d been drawn to the Austrian giant since you’d arrived a month ago. You liked his presence, it was safe, a shield to all else. Nothing could touch you with him there. No amount of horny jeering men, or loaded guns.
“It’s not a just scratch, König, its a big gash. And I haven’t even gotten to your face yet. Plus, I couldn’t sleep anyway, I’m happy to do it.” You rambled, feeling the burn of his eyes on yours, studying your face as you concentrated, threading a sterile needle. You stepped forward, into him, bumping his leg. He smelled like earth, and motor oil. Faintly of cigarettes and metallic blood. The heady odour was thick, collocating with the rubbing alcohol of your sterile office.
“Deep breath.” You felt silly, instructing a man who’d murdered countless men in the past week to do a breathing excersise, but he obeyed, the soft, raspy sound making your knees weak, and your imagination run wild. You blinked and regained focus, before puncturing the skin. His eyes fixed on your face, unwavering. You counted the stitches. Eleven, black and neat, in a row. “Aaand…done.” You cut the thread. “And not even a flinch.” You smiled at him, and his eyes crinkled, barely.
You gently rubbed it with ointment and wiped your hands on a towel, blood staining it crimson. You noticed his thighs now resting against yours. They were warm, and dirt from them stained your kaki pants but your hardly cared. “Ok. Ready for the mask?” You felt nervous, more nervous than he looked. It felt monumental, an enigma becoming real, smoke condensing into man.
You’d thought about what he looked like, but only in patches, certain features imagined while the rest of the picture was more of a blurred haze. Pale skin and light eyes. Dark or light hair? A sharp jaw or weak and soft? You couldn’t really imagine him being ugly, and truly, you felt you’d be attracted to him regardless, like opposite poles of a magnet. North and south. Dark and light, soft and hard.
He cleared his throat, and set the empty bowl down beside him. His eyes held yours vehemently, and large hands raised black cloth, revealing a pale, broad column of neck, a white scar gracing one side. You wanted to graze it with your lips. His lips were split, bitten and red. And inviting. A glint of teeth and a jaw, sharp with a whisper of stubble. The cloth clung to a splatter of blood and small cuts now integrated with old scars, and a few pieces of shrapnel that traveled up to a deep, glistening slice. Caked blood ran down his temple. His nose was sharp and slightly crooked, veering to the right in an endearing way, as if it had been broken when he was a child.
Then, his eyes, deep set and soft, framed with long lashes and crowned with sharp brows, one interrupted by a large, aged scar. Finally, hair, light, light brown, almost blonde, with a tinge of red, tumbled out. It was tied back with an elastic, but not long, as if he was in need of a trim, shorter pieces falling across his forehead. His head tilted back as he looked at you, silently, daring you to react to his intimate sign of trust.
You breathed out. It wasn’t what you had expected. His face was, interesting. Attractive. Younger than you’d imagined. A sharp canine pressed into his lip. You let out a breath, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling it clench beneath your fingers, tilting his face up towards artificial light. His lips parted, adams apple bobbing. “You should’ve let me do your face first.”
“Sorry.” His voice was soft, ragged.
You reached for a pair of pointed tweezers and began removing each piece of shrapnel from his face. The night was quiet, save for for soft breaths. His was hot against your cheek. “König.” Chunks of metal and stone clanged into a small aluminum bowl. He hummed in response.
“You could never scare me.”
He smiled softly at you, slightly crooked.
Without meaning to, your thumb stroked the soft skin of his jaw. His legs tightened against you, barely, but your heart quickened against your ribcage.
Again, you soaked the wounds in alcohol. You could tell it stung. His fingers began absentmindedly drumming against your hip, leaving hot tingles in their wake. You moved to the cut on his lip, he hissed quietly as you made contact with the cotton pad. Your eyes were focused, pupils blown wide as you stared at his lips. His hot tongue peeking out from behind pink bloodied skin.
Your voice was quiet, distant, “You have a pretty bad split lip, I’m gonna put a little stitch in it.”
He swallowed hoarsely, “Okay.”
You were close, so close to him, breaths mingling in the hot air. His scent enveloped you. He enveloped you. You weren’t particularly small, but to him you were. Fragile. The needle ruptured his lip and his hand gripped at your waist, heavy and large. You leaned into him, lower stomach barely grazing the split of his pants. He shifted in thick canvas.
Your hand shifted, cupping his jaw as you cut the thread. His eyes were heavy with fatigue, and something else. You looked at each other with neediness, both in awe of how the other contained all that they could ever want- him to satiate your emptiness, you to soothe his aching burn. A month of passing glances and unsaid words threatened to morph into action; spurred on by the arousal of seclusion and stagnation after the high of adrenaline, the heady scent of blood, metal, alcohol.
You leaned in and felt his hand tighten against you hip, You were inches from him, the air between you buzzed as opposites attracted, pulled you towards him. His mouth widened as he leaned into you. Your soft, plush lips grazed his, barely, and he pulled you into him, emitting a soft sound. Mouths opened wide with need. He was metal, cigarettes and gasoline, the taste and smell making you unsteady, faint. You gripped his shirt tightly, his mass keeping you from falling, or perhaps from floating away.
Deft, strong fingers found the back of your head. Scalp prickling as he pulled at your hair. You were slick.
He groaned slightly into your mouth, and your hands found his hair, fisting it free from the elastic band, copper locks brushing your forehead, stubble brash against your reddening cheeks.
His large warm hand traced from your hip down, raising your leg to straddle his thigh. Hot, hard muscle against your softness. You let out an involuntary airy moan as the seam of your jeans jabbed into your clit, cunt clenching around nothing, deprived and empty.
You lifted your other leg to straddle him fully, clothed cunt contracting at the friction against pelvis, you could feel him, large, hard, heavy and confined. It made you hot with need. You pulled back to stare at him, pupils blown, lips puffy. His hips bucked up into you, searching for friction and release, his brows furrowed. Colossal hands found your waist beneath your shirt, opposite fingers almost touching around your circumference. His fingers were calloused and rough. Feeling his hot skin against yours made you reel with thoughts of at the way he dwarfed you, dominated you with the simplest of actions. The fact that he could fill your emptiness, stretch you to the brink, overwhelm you, crush you- was inebriating.
“I-” he searched for the right words, “I want you. Ich brauche dich.” You smiled at his mother tongue appearing, as it often did in states of intoxication.
You pressed your mouth to his neck, with an open mouthed kiss, feeling the bump of his scar as he swallowed, and looked up at him through wet lashes. Grinding your hips against him, making him groan, cock twitching, hyper sensitive from months of neglect. You maundered, “Let me make you feel good, König.” Your voice was airy and laced with fervour. His eyes were glassy and lidded as he looked down at you, hair falling across his forehead, glistening with sweat. His head swam, the situation feeling far to good to be true, an intoxicated dream or adrenaline spurred hallucination. His blunt fingernails clutched at your waist harshly, leaving half moons in their wake.
Your eyes flickered to a stain of precum darkening the crotch of his thick pants as you rose to your feet, his hands gripped his thighs in restraint, watching you in anticipation. Then, you knelt to the ground to worship your king.
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lightsoutletsgo · 1 month
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anxiety gremlin — op.81
pairing: oscar piastri x anxious!reader
word count: 3.5k
warnings: mentions of anxiety and generalised anxiety disorder, description of physical symptoms including; nausea, headaches, sweaty hands, stomach pains, brain fog, mental struggles, mentions of panic attacks but reader doesn’t experience one, mentions of food and making food related decisions. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!  hello loves! this one is very personal to me and it was a pretty selfish write tbh... I wasn't sure if I should post it but I decided to do it in the hopes that it brings people some comfort. Oscar's dialogue at the end is a message that I, as the author, want to remind you all. you've got this, even if it doesn't feel like it! happy reading love mimi
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Sometimes, it felt as though the world was out to get you. You faced the world and your flight, fight or freeze instincts kicked in. When you woke up, it seemed like it was going to be one of those days. That unexplainable feeling of nausea turning your stomach and an unexplainable headache pulled at the back of your head. Your jaw tensed as the nausea hit you in another wave and you forced yourself to roll over and close your eyes. Maybe if you could get back to sleep you’d wake up feeling better. Your mind however, had other ideas. Instead, deciding to send you down the spiral of impending doom - a lovely gift first thing in the morning. Thoughts whizzed through your head; Why did you feel so nauseous? Why did your head hurt? Had you forgotten something? What were your plans for the day and was that why this horrible feeling was creeping up? You sat up, accepting that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep and decided to get ready for the day. Perhaps a shower would help? The warm water was soothing as it rushed over you and whether it was the heat or the steam or the fact you were doing something to distract yourself, for a moment you felt a little better. Exiting the shower you decided that while the nausea had subsided, it would be a good time to start hydrating and maybe think about eating something. Your phone rang and dragged you from your internal rambling, “Hi baby!” You smiled, despite the fact that your boyfriend couldn’t see you, “Good morning angel,” You could hear Oscar’s dopey lovesick grin through the phone, “how did you sleep?” You set him down on loudspeaker as you got dressed, “I slept okay! How about you?” “I would have slept better if you didn’t keep stealing the blankets…” You gasped, “I do not!” Oscar laughed, “You absolutely do! One night I’m going to record you for evidence.” You giggled, “You do that baby.” Oscar nodded then realised you couldn’t see him, “I’m just calling to find out what you want for breakfast? I figured I’d stop off at that little cafe that you like on my way home.” You gulped, you had no clue what you wanted or how to decide, “I’d love that, thank you handsome!” You thought frantically for a solution, “Uhh you can choose for me! I trust you!” There was a pause on the other end of the line, “Are you sure angel?” “Yup, mhm, so sure!” “O-okay…” After making Oscar promise to drive safely, you hung up. 
You realised that for a moment while talking to Oscar, you hadn’t even thought about feeling anxious but it was as if that realisation had summoned the feeling back. All of a sudden your hands felt shaky and it was hard to focus on anything but the disconcerting feeling in your chest. Sitting down on the couch you did your best to control your breathing. Sometimes you wished that it would just turn into a panic attack and be done with. Anything would be better than this on-off-on-off situation. It was like feeling a sneeze that wouldn’t leave your body. Unsatisfying and unsettling. 
The front door opening made you snap your head up and you realised that subconsciously you had been rubbing your hands on your sweatpants to try and get rid of the clammy feeling. You shook your head and smiled as Oscar walked through the door, you were just a little bit anxious, it was no big deal. 
Oscar beamed at you as he entered the living room. He noticed that you seemed distracted and almost a little shifty. Your eyes kept darting around the room and your hands were absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the hem of your t-shirt - a habit you usually despised because it had the potential to ruin your clothes. He said nothing, just walked through the room to the kitchen and placed down the paper bags filled with breakfast. “You okay there angel?” You nodded at him but it wasn’t enough to reassure him, “Are you sure?” You nodded once more, why now of all times were you feeling sick again? You sat there grinding your teeth together and clenched your jaw, feeling too sick to open your mouth and reply. You wanted to reply, you really did! But your brain had decided that words were a step too far. “Did you do something while I was out, hmm?” Oscar joked but all it did was make you more anxious, ‘was he angry?’, ‘was he going to shout at you?’, ‘breakup with you?’, “Come on troublemaker, you can tell me!-” “Nothing! Nothing happened! Now will you please stop asking.” You snapped, immediately clapping a hand across your mouth in shock before the tears were welling up in your eyes. “Oscar I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry baby I shouldn’t have snapped… Please don’t be angry!” You rambled a million miles an hour as your hands began rubbing and grabbing the material of your sweatpants again, not even realising your breathing had turned heavy and you were sweating. Oscar stood there in shock, he had never seen you like this before, was this because of him? He slowly approached you, not sure of the issue and not sure how to resolve it. “It’s okay angel, it’s okay” He held his hand out to you but you shook your head, talking through a clenched jaw in the hopes it would help the queasy feeling in your stomach, “Hands sweaty.” Oscar nodded, “Okay then, can I sit next to you?” You nodded, he gently took a seat next to you, careful not to jostle or jolt you, “Is this a medical emergency?” You shook your head, “do I need to call an ambulance?” You shook your head once more, feeling like you wanted to cry.
How embarrassing that you were having an episode like this in front of your boyfriend after hiding it so well for so long. And even more embarrassing that you couldn’t tell him what was going on let alone why you felt the way you did, “Is this a panic attack?” You shook your head no. Oscar made a little ‘oh’ and sat quietly next to you, unsure of what to say or do. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to open your mouth, despite how heavy your tongue felt. “I’m just a bit anxious.” “What about?” You shrugged, “Nothing. Everything. Hard to explain.” Oscar smiled at you through your one word answers and short sentences, “Well I can wait, it’s okay.” You nodded, hands starting to tingle with how long you’d been rubbing them against fabric and you winced as a sudden cramping feeling started in your stomach. Oscar seemed to notice your discomfort, “Please let me hold your hand angel, I promise I don’t care if it’s sweaty and you think it’s gross, I just want to help okay?” You nodded, breathing deeply and letting him take your hand in his. 
As soon as your hand was in his, his thumb was rubbing gentle circles over the back of your hand. A soothing motion that you let your eyes focus on. Watching his hands and how they moved, anything to keep your attention off of the anxious feeling. 
As he sat next to you Oscar wondered how he should approach you to talk about this. Clearly there was something you weren’t telling him. He thought he knew what it was and he understood why you hadn’t told him. He knew that people got anxious, hell he was always anxious before a race, but he also knew that for some people it went beyond unsettling feelings. He guessed that that’s what you were dealing with too. He’d seen Logan feeling like this a few times and so he wracked his brain to try and remember what the American had told him was useful. How about distraction? It was worth a shot! “Want to watch a film?” You nodded, eyes still laser focused on Oscar’s hands. “I knew you had a thing for my hands but you are allowed to blink you know.” He joked, cracking the smallest sound of an exhale of laughter from you, that was a start. “What film should we watch, hmm?” He grabbed the remote to start flicking through options, his hand never leaving yours, but aware that there was enough space between you so you didn’t feel smothered. “I think something cute and funny? Yes that’s a goooood plan Oscar.” You gave a weak smile once more as he talked to himself and he smiled at you, “how about Tangled?” You nodded and he selected the film, settling back into the couch, head looking at you once more, “Do you want to cuddle?” You shook your head and he just shrugged, wanting to keep you as comfortable as possible,  “That’s okay, you just let me know when you do, okay?” You nodded and he squeezed your hand to comfort you, “Do you want to sit back on the couch?” Your body was still tightly wound and feeling like a live wire so you shook your head, physically unable to relax. And still all Oscar did was smile at you.
As the film started, you did your best to focus on it, finding yourself unable to stop smiling and releasing some of the tension in your shoulders at various points when your boyfriend spoke the lines along with the characters, with facial expressions. You watched on screen as Rapunzel and Flynn entered the Ugly Duckling Pub and you realised your body finally felt relaxed enough to sit back against the couch. Oscar silently breathed a sigh of relief, all he wanted to do was fix it for you but he knew that he could only do so much. 
By the time the next song had finished, your body was subconsciously leaning against him. Your head rested on his shoulder and he gently tilted his head to rest on top of yours. You gave a little contented sigh. As you sat there, a wave of tiredness hit you, the physical symptoms and mental strain you’d been feeling since you woke up taking its toll. With Oscar’s warm body next to you and the comforting sounds of one of your favourite movies on screen, it wasn’t long before you felt your eyes beginning to slowly close. Oscar looked down at you and saw that your lashes had fluttered shut. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and let his own eyes slip shut. 
When you woke up a couple of hours later, the TV was off and you were laying on the couch with a soft blanket covering you. You sat up and sleepily rubbed your eyes, “Osc?” You heard low music drifting through the door to the kitchen and you could hear Oscar mumbling to himself and humming along, cursing occasionally when pots and pans clanged together. He poked his head out from the kitchen door, “There’s my pretty girl. Good morning angel.” He cooed at you and the way you blinked back at him sleepily. “What time is it?” “It’s lunchtime! I was just reheating breakfast.” You nodded, sitting up and pulling your knees up to your chest as he padded across the room to take a seat at the end of the couch by your feet, “I’m sorry.” Oscar’s eyes searched your face as you looked down at your hands in your lap. Oscar’s hand rested on your knee, “Angel, you never have to apologise for something like that…” He trailed off, hesitant to ask you his next question, “do you want to talk about it?” You inhaled slowly, nodding, “Yeah I think I would.” He gently nudged you with his elbow and you shifted back to let him sit in front of you, both of you sitting cross legged. He held his hands out to you and you took them with a shaky exhale.  
“Umm… I’m not exactly sure how to explain it?” You admitted, your fingers playing with his own in an effort to keep yourself grounded as that familiar feeling of your shoulders tightening and nausea creeping up began to settle in. He followed your gaze, “That’s okay, we have all the time in the world. Explain it however you feel is easiest.” You nodded once more, “So obviously you noticed that I was feeling anxious,” He tilted his head to one side to show you he was listening as you continued, “That’s because I have generalised anxiety disorder. And the thing is… I feel like that most of the time.” You admitted shakily, desperately willing yourself not to cry. If Oscar was surprised or taken aback he didn’t show it, instead just linking your hand with his and squeezing, encouraged you continued, 
“There are good days and there are bad days but I’m always anxious… There’s this constant feeling of underlying panic or anxiety or this sense of impending doom.” You looked up and noticed how Oscar’s eyes searched yours, willing you to understand that he wasn’t going anywhere, “I feel nauseous, I feel shaky, my hands get clammy, sometimes it’s like I forget how to breathe, my head and stomach hurt for no reason, my head goes fuzzy and it’s hard to focus on anything but the feeling of how anxious I am…” “Baby…” Oscar breathed, you gave him a watery smile, tears filling your lash line, 
“It makes me irritable, it makes me bitchy, it makes me snap at people I love, it makes me sensitive and emotional, I cry a lot, I cancel plans at the last second, I keep to myself and I build my walls up…” You trailed off, meeting his gaze and noticing that his eyes were filling with tears too, “Sometimes it feels like I’m two people. Me and my anxiety.” You couldn’t help the way the tears fell with a choked sob, “Angel, can I please please give you a hug?” Oscar pleaded, itching to pull you into his arms and comfort you. 
You nodded through your sobs, finally feeling the huge emotional release that had been building since you’d woken up. He reached for you, gently grabbing your arms and pulling you forward onto him. Falling back against the arm of the couch with you against his chest as you both stretched your legs out. He held you for what felt like forever, tightly wrapping his arms around you and stroking your hair, gently murmuring to you and kissing your forehead. When your sobs had subsided a little, he wiped your cheeks, “My sweet girl…” He gently pressed kisses across your face, relishing in the way your crying eased and you let out a little sigh after each one, “Thank you so much for telling me angel.” He paused, “Can I ask why you didn’t tell me before?” He asked gently. You sighed, fisting his t-shirt in your hand as you fought the nervous feeling that made your stomach flip. His hand rubbed up and down your back in a soothing motion as he felt you tense up in his arms, “I’m not mad at you baby, I just want to know what I can do differently in the future. I’d hate it if you didn’t feel safe enough to come to me for help.” You nodded, nuzzling into his chest, attempting to block out the world and focus on Oscar. Just Oscar. 
“Everyone I’ve told has left…” You mumbled sadly, “Hmmm?” His voice was soft, like he didn’t want to scare you out of answering, “I told a few people growing up, uni friends and stuff, and they would always answer with the usual ‘oh yeah I feel anxious too’... Until I explained I had diagnosed anxiety disorder and then,” you sighed, “then they would tell me it was too much for them to deal with, or they would get mad at me for ruining plans, or tell me to just get over it when I tried to talk to them about it.” Oscar’s hold on you tightened a little as he felt a spark of anger burn inside him. How dare they? Anyone could see that you were trying your best, he gave you his full attention as you continued, “I guess all of those things mean that I have a hard time opening up and trusting people with the knowledge of my diagnosis because it’s always backfired… Please don’t be mad at me… I do trust you, I just…” “Hey,” Oscar’s voice was low to ensure he didn’t trigger you, “I’m not mad or disappointed at you baby, I’m frustrated with myself for not noticing sooner.” “I’m pretty good at hiding it,” you admitted, the two of you led there in silence for a moment before Oscar spoke again, “Well I’m beyond proud of you. For dealing with it everyday and for opening up to me.” You tilted your head up to look at him and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, “Thank you for listening.” He smiled back down at you, “Of course.” 
You summoned up the courage to ask him the question that had been on your mind for a little while, “H-how did you know how to help?” Oscar breathed deeply for a second, “There’s someone on the grid who uhhh, struggles with the same thing. They’ve opened up to me and explained what helps them so I figured I’d try?” You pushed yourself up to look at him in surprise, “Someone on the grid?” Oscar nodded, “I won’t say who, because it’s their thing to disclose and explain,” You nodded, “Of course!” “But they’re doing their best to work on things and ask for help and they’ve been doing really well.” Oscar made a mental note to ask Logan if he would consider talking to you. “Well, Tangled was a great choice!” You giggled as Oscar nuzzled his nose into your neck, “Yeah? I wanted to pick something that wouldn’t make you feel worse.” You couldn’t help the way you threw your arms around him and cuddled into him, so thankful for him and the thought and care he gave to you. “I love you.” It was muffled against his chest but he knew what you wanted to say and so with a chuckle he kissed the top of your head, “I love you too, angel.”
You stayed there for a moment before he was gently pushing you to sit up so he could look into your eyes, “I want to say something.” He hesitated and you nodded at him to continue. He gently held your chin with one hand, keeping you looking at him as his other hand found yours in your lap, linking his fingers with yours and squeezing, despite the way your hands were starting to get a little clammy again, “You may have anxiety disorder but it’s not who you are, baby.” Your eyes widened, he continued, “You are not your diagnosis. There is so much more to you than that. You are kind and caring, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re creative.” Your heart melted at how passionately he was speaking. “You’re loved and valued by me and so many others, angel… I love you, the anxiety gremlin that comes with you and all.” You giggled at how he referred to it, “Anxiety gremlin… I like it!” He smiled, kissing your nose, you scrunched it up and he kept talking, “I know I can’t fix it and make it go away, believe me baby I wish that I could. But I promise that I’ll be here through all the bad days and the good days. I’ll do everything I can to make it easier and more bearable for you.”
You couldn’t help the way you started crying again, happy tears this time, Oscar’s thumb gently wiping them away, “So when you’re feeling up to it, we’re gonna sit down and talk about how I can help. What I can do when you’re having a bad day, the things we can do together, how you like to be distracted, how I can help when we’re out in public, maybe a codeword?-” You giggled as he started speaking faster and faster, you stopped his rambling with a soft kiss, pressing your lips to his, your hand cupping his face, thumb rubbing over his cheek, “That sounds perfect baby, thank you.” Oscar kissed you once more, pulling you into him, “You just let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded, “I will, I promise.” “Good! But for now, we still need to eat our breakfast!”
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bonny-kookoo · 4 months
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More someone older smut drabble pls
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When he wakes up, he feels somewhat.. anxious?
He slowly sits up in his bed to look around, checking the digital clock next to his bed on the small table twice just to make sure that he's truly not asleep anymore. Because this- just doesn't feel quite real.
There's faint music playing in his home, outside the bedroom. The smell of something cooking fills the room as well, dishes clattering a bit in the sink in the kitchen. He knows it must be you- he's aware that you're staying with him after all. But still.
This feels too much like his mind making things up.
The bedroom door opens slowly, your head poking in, before you realize he's awake. "Oh, you're up." You say, entering more openly now. "I hope I didn't wake you."
"Why did you get up without me?" He wonders, feet meeting the floor as he's moved to sit on the edge of the bed, making you giggle as you sit down on the bed on your knees.
"Cause.. I wasn't tired anymore." You shrug, reaching out to somewhat tame his slightly wild bedhead. "And I thought you might appreciate breakfast?"
"I do appreciate that." He smiles, before he catches you off guard by tugging on your arm and making you lay down, before he positions himself over you. "But you could've also woken me up." He chuckles before pecking your lips once.
"But you were sleeping so tight." You say. "Looked like you were dreaming."
"Hm.. I was." He agrees, kisses moving to your neck. "Of you."
"Oh?" You wonder, stretching your arms above your head for a second. "What were you dreaming of?" You ask.
"Things I'd love to make a reality one day." He purrs against your skin, before he releases you again. 'I'll shower real quick, alright?" He tells you, before he pecks your lips once more and leaves into the bathroom to shower-
And you're honestly not sure what makes you feel so bold.
Maybe it's that feeling of safety you have with him, this odd sense of security here in his home, as if nothing can really harm you in here. So when you move to enter the bathroom as well, shower already running with him inside, you don't feel any sort of hesitation as you shed your clothes and join him beneath the warm water.
It's a sight that easily makes him stir alive, remnants of his dream revived as he watches the water pearl down your skin. The way you easily touch and kiss him is making his head spin, making him forget about your past hesitation in its entirety.
This is how it's supposed to be. Easy, simple. No worries about what might be the best thing to do.
Just existing.
Your hand on him makes him gasp into your mouth, a sound you eagerly swallow, his back hitting the tiled wall of the shower. He manages to turn the steady stream of water up ahead a bit lower as you fall to your knees, the anti slip mat on the shower floor cushioning them quite a bit as you work on him.
It's now what his dream was about- but he's sure he could never come up with a scene as serene as this anyways, imagination not advanced enough to even think of this potentially happening.
Just like back at your place before, this time once more he's a slave to your actions. It's causing his mind to go blank at the way your tongue runs over the head of his cock, beckoning him further and further towards his release. And then your hands join in to hold and touch what you can't fit, effortlessly making the muscles in his thighs spasm as he spills inside your mouth with his head thrown back against the tiles of the shower, a hand in your hair.
He can't let this stand.
And he doesnt- returning the favor shamelessly so with both his hands and mouth, eagerly devouring you as his first breakfast before he later on sits at the table in the kitchen to eat his actual one, conversation innocent enough to mask over the things that went down not even long enough ago to dry your hair fully.
If this is a dream, he doesn't want to wake up. If all the Christmas decor and your words about baking later are lies, he doesn't want to hear the truth.
He wants to stay like this-
And he'll do anything to make it work.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
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Can I request Spencer x anxious, overthinker reader ? Maybe, overwhelmed or stressed, like almost burnout, but not quite. Because this semester at uni had just been way too much in every way. Thank you 💕 🌸
Thanks for requeting love, hope you're able to get a break soon!
cw: academic stress, reader has symptoms of anxiety
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words
When Spencer gets home in the middle of the night, you don’t hear him over the sound of sizzling and your own racing thoughts. 
“Hi,” he announces himself as he comes in, meeting your little jolt with a bemused look. “I’m surprised you’re still awake.” 
“Hey, how was your flight?” You whirl from the stove for the half a second it takes to brush a kiss against his cheek before turning back to keep pushing things around the pan. The momentary distraction is worth it for the emergence of Spencer’s smile, soft and fatigued. “Sorry, I was hoping to have this done before you got home.” 
“Don’t be sorry,” he says automatically. “The flight was good. I’m happy to be back.” He sets his bag down and rounds the kitchen island to lean against the counter beside the stove, peering at your face. “I hope you’re not making dinner just for me.” 
“I’m going to have some too,” you reassure him. “I’m starving.” 
Spencer’s expression shifts. You get the sense you’ve confirmed something for him. “It’s pretty late. Why haven’t you eaten yet?” 
You wish you could say that you’d wanted to wait and eat with your boyfriend, but there’s never any point in lying to Spencer. 
“I just haven’t gotten around to it until now,” you say. “I have a lot of work to do.” 
“I know,” he replies. You know he does. You’d started venting about your workload before he left for the case, and he’d been kind about letting you continue to do so during your nightly calls when he was away. “Still, it’s a lot to be up until…” He glances at the microwave clock, unsure of what time it actually is. You can’t say you know, either. “Nearly three-thirty. How long have you been working for?” 
You push the vegetables around in the pan, olive oil spitting and burning the skin of your hand. You feel Spencer’s stare narrow on you. “Since I got home, so seven-ish.” 
He frowns. “You’re not feeling tired, are you?” 
You’re not, though you don’t ask how he can tell. You look tired, you know. Every time you look in the mirror lately, you think of the word unkempt. Messy hair, dull skin, purplish crescent moons stamped under both eyes. But you don’t feel like you could sleep if you tried. There’s an urgency in your blood that gets you up early every morning and propels you to work through the day, like there’s an engine inside of you that’s decided it doesn’t need gas to run. You’re always moving, humming, thinking, certain without reason that if you stop it’ll all fall apart. 
You shake your head, and Spencer frowns towards the pan. “What do you have left to do with this?” 
You’re surprised to find, upon looking down, that the vegetables look ready. “Um,” you switch the heat off, “I’m just waiting for the timer to finish on the pasta, and then I’m going to mix them together. It shouldn’t be long.” 
“Okay.” He takes the spoon from you, moving you out of the way with a careful hand on your shoulder. “I can handle that. You should go sit down.” 
“Spence,” you laugh, “I can do it.” 
He doesn’t argue with you, necessarily, just utters a quiet, “It’s okay,” and nudges you in the direction of the couch. 
You don’t have it in you to protest much, not when he’s just gotten home, so you do, curling up with your feet underneath you and pulling a blanket from over the side of the armrest. You think Spencer is going to want to talk, but he doesn’t, just stirring the pasta and pulling dishes out of the cabinet. Maybe he’s exhausted, too. It is late, and he’s been working on his case the same way you’ve been chipping away at your schoolwork, for days and days with little reprieve. 
You thank him when he passes you a bowl, slurping up the noodles the way your mom would chide you if she were here for and comforted by the fact that Spencer’s doing the same. You’re convinced the pasta somehow tastes better than if you’d finished it yourself, your boyfriend’s poor culinary skills supplemented by the love he puts into taking care of you. 
“You know,” he says after a minute, “there’s evidence to suggest that consistent sleep loss can lead to loss of brain cells.” 
You suck a noodle into your mouth. “I sleep,” you tell him. “I’m just having a late night.” 
Spencer gives you a sorry sort of smile. Like he almost wants to apologize for how smart he is, how it keeps you from getting away with anything. “I’ve only been gone for four days,” he says, “but you were texting me after I went to sleep and before I got up every morning.”  
“Only psychopaths look at timestamps,” you joke, looking down into your pasta bowl. 
He shrugs, quiet. 
“What else can I do?” you ask, and you really are asking. “I have deadlines, Spence. Due dates. I can’t just say fuck it and go to sleep at nine every night like I don’t still have work left to do.” 
“Which part is overwhelming you?” he asks curiously. 
You huff. Not at him. “All of it? It’s like every one of my professors thinks they’re my only class. There’s a bunch of essays and projects all due this week, and no break from the regular stuff to give me time to get it done.” You blink into your pasta bowl, ashamed at the emotion bullying its way into your voice. Blame it on fatigue, you guess. “Every day when I get home from class, I have this impossible list of things to do, and it’s like, if I don’t finish, what’s going to happen? My grades will tank, and I won’t be able to get any of the good internships, and then I won’t get a job, and—”
“It’s okay.” Spencer’s voice is quiet, and you might keep going if not for the hand he sets on your wrist. His thumb strokes once over the delicate skin just below your palm. “It’s okay, just try to breathe for a second. Calm down.” 
You do, only because it’s him. When other people tell you to calm down, it’s a demand, a criticism of your display of feeling. When Spencer does it, it's an assurance. That you can relax, because he’s going to make it all right. 
“I failed three classes when I was in college,” he tells you. 
You imagine your eyes bulging all the way out of your head on cartoon springs, lolling towards the ground. “What?” 
He shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I didn’t like them. I never showed up to class, and eventually I just failed. I didn’t really care.” His mouth slants sheepishly. “I probably should have, but I still don’t, actually. You can get a job either way.” 
Your laugh is dry. “Spence, I think it’s a little different for genius prodigies.” 
“Not really,” he says, thumb still pressing into your wrist, and you finally realize he’s been taking your pulse. It’s strangely touching, the way he cares for you so quietly. “Even if you did fail these classes because of the assignments this week, the odds are actually pretty good that you could get a job. And you won’t fail, because you’ll still finish and the work will be great. I know you.” His long fingers stretch up your forearm, a caress. “I know you get really nervous about these things, but you’ll do better work if you sleep more. You’ll be more efficient.” 
“I can’t,” you admit quietly. 
A tiny, sympathetic crease appears between Spencer’s brows. “You can,” he promises. “I’ll make you some nighttime tea and we’ll make sure all the curtains are closed. We should turn off your alarms, too.” 
You bite your lip. “I have class in the morning.” 
“You can miss one. You have to miss a lot for it to really affect your grade, trust me.” He gives the base of your hand a little squeeze. “I’d know.” 
Your laugh is half breath, but Spencer smiles anyway. “Okay.” You’re giving in way too easily, but a morning spent in bed with your boyfriend sounds heavenly. “Thanks.” 
“You’re welcome,” he says sincerely, releasing your hand to pick up his fork. “We’ll go to bed once we finish this, okay? And I’ll pick up breakfast tacos for breakfast tomorrow. Protein is good for brain function.”
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brooooswriting · 2 months
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hi, can I request a fluffy leighton x reader where the reader is having just a really bad day (late to class, someone spilled coffee on her, etc) and she’s just super stressed and anxious and leighton notices and tries to make her feel better and helps her through it? and ofc leighton’s roommates are totally unused to seeing her being soft with someone so they’re all shocked and stuff
Softie
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Sometimes life just seemed to fuck you over and today was just one of those days. It started early in the morning, or well it didn’t which was the problem. Your alarm didn’t ring as your phone charger didn’t work. You woke up a lot later than you normally did resulting in you getting late to class and after class was finally done and the prof was done lecturing you about being late, you walked out of the room just for someone to bump into you and spill their hot coffee over your shirt. As you were already late you didn’t have time to change for your next course, instead just closing the jacket which was at least a bit better.
When it was finally time to eat, at least in theory, you went back to your dorm room to change and since your phone was still off you couldn’t even text your friends about not coming. Happy to finally arrive at your dorm you opened the door just to hear weird noise coming from your room. It took you a second to figure out what those noises were before sighing, your roommates sex life really always was your enemy. Since you couldn’t go into your room you just grabbed a new jacket to pull over your shirt, hoping that it’d fix the problem at least a bit.
During lunch, your friends sat at the same table as always. Leighton was constantly checking her phone, a worried look on her face. “It’s weird that she’s not answering right?” She asked her friends making them freeze for a moment, it wasn’t often that the blonde was asking for advice.
“Wait, is the leighton Murray worried about someone else?” Whitney asked, fake surprise in her voice as she widens her eyes earning an annoyed look from her friend.
“Did you maybe do something to upset her?” Kimberly asked innocently.
“Oh my god, did you say somebody else’s name during sex?” Bella intervened, making the rest of the group cringe. Especially Leighton who shuddered before shaking her head.
“What kind of question is that? Of course not and I don’t think I did anything to upset her. Yesterday everything was fine, we were out and then she brought me home, kissed me good night and went to her dorm. Later we texted shortly before saying good night and going to sleep. Since then I haven’t heard from her” she explained, wrecking her brain trying to think of anything she could have done. The rest was still kinda perplex, the blonde never talked about her private life like this. It already took them hours to get out of her who she was dating.
“Well, do you know if she had a course with anyone you could ask?” Whitney suggested.
“Oh, Lila. Didn’t you have Econ or whatever with y/n this morning?” She suddenly called out to the girl who was walking by their table.
“Yeah I did, dude was late as shit and left me alone in that boring ass course” Lila complained on and on until the blonde finally interrupted her.
“What do you mean she was late?” You were normally very punctual so this was already kinda weird.
“What do you mean ‘what I mean?’ Class started at 7:30, your hot stuff girlfriend arrived at like 8:15, leaving me alone for 45 minutes. But she did seem like she had a rough night or morning. If she did, that bitch is excused. But only this once” with that the sips manager disappeared.
After a moment Leighton stood up and grabbed her food confusing the rest of them as she didn’t say anything. “Where are you going?” Bela asked.
“I wish I could be looking for my girlfriend but instead I have to go and write a shitty math test that is way to easy anyway” she aggressively packed away her stuff before storming off to her lecture.
You never thought you’d say that you’d rather be in Leightons weird ass math class than at sips. But Thursdays were always extremely full and a lot of the people there were frat boys who treated workers like shit. Normally you were at least two people on Thursdays but Zoe had to call in sick last minute leaving you alone with a whole lot of work. Throughout your whole shift the frat boys tried to humiliate you and made you work twice as hard as they spilled everything on purpose and didn’t throw away anything. Your shift went an hour and a half longer than normal exhausting you even more.
Once you could finally leave you felt like breaking down, your eyes were wet, your bottom lip trembling and you were barely moving your feet. As soon as you entered the building your body moved on its own finding the way to your girlfriend’s dorm who was still panicking. She only knew that you were alive was due to other people telling her that they saw you. “If I don’t hear from her in the next hour I’ll get the police or some shit” she told the others while aggressively typing on her phone. “I have been everywhere. Her sips shift was over over an hour ago. I was at her dorm, the library, the cafeteria and the gym but she’s nowhere to be found” she added.
“Have you looked at sips?” Whitney asked making the blonde scoff.
“It’s Thursday” she answered leaving everybody confused, “She hates it there on Thursdays, so why would she stay longer?” While Kimberly found it unbelievably cute that Leighton knew which days you liked and which not she realized that the blonde didn’t have a clue how shifts might work.
Just as she was about to explain that to her there was a knock on the door. The youngest Murray sibling quickly jumped up to see who was behind the door, a relief sigh leaving her when she saw you. But her relief quickly disappeared when she saw how your shoulders were hanging, your eyes wet and barely sparkling anymore and your lips trembling when you tried to greet her. Everybody looked at you, making it even worse. Leighton quickly pulled you in to the room, her hands caressing your cheek softly. “What happened y/n?” She asked carefully while studying your face.
You tried to speak but every time you wanted to open your mouth, you could feel yourself starting to cry. The blonde didn’t want to force you to speak so she just wrapped you in a hug which made you sob out. “Shh, it’s okay. Everything is gonna be okay” she mumbled over and over, feeling all her roommates watch her. They couldn’t believe it, Leighton was hugging someone and in addition to that, someone who was crying. While they stared at her, she tightened her arms around you as she felt your legs giving out. “Bela, Kimberly couch” she asked. They quickly stood up and set on the seats across the couch so you two could sit there. When your cries slowly died down, the blonde pointed at the fridge, making Kimberly get up to get you a bottle of water. “Thank you”
Once your girlfriend had forced you to drink some water with the words “you don’t want to look puffy later do you?”, she repeated her question from before. “It’s stupid, really” you answered but the look she gave you made you continue. “I just had a bad day” you then explained, looking down at your hands.
“That isn’t stupid, love” she comforted, her hands still rubbing circles across your back.
“Can we ask what happened?” Whitney said carefully. One, she didn’t wanna upset you further, and two, she was scared of Leighton is she did upset you further.
“It’s just, my charger broke so my phone didn’t load which meant that my alarm didn’t ring. Then I was too late to Econ and the prof lectured me like half an hour after the lecture that I was too late and as soon as I left the room somebody spilled their hot coffee onto me, but I was already too late to change. So I had to sit in my next lecture drenched in hot coffee and when I wanted to change during lunch I walked into my dorm just for my roommate to have another one night stand over, so I couldn’t change. And when I arrived at sips I was told that Zoe called in sick so I was alone and it was so full and these stupid frat boys were there so I had to work longer than my shift went and they made me spill oat milk on myself” by the end you were nearly crying again. If it wasn’t for Leighton giving you comfort you definitely would.
“See, I told you Zoe is evil” Whitney pointed out, receiving a glare from Leighton which made you chuckle a bit. The moment the sound left your mouth the blonde stopped glaring and instead smiled at you. “I’m sorry the day was so shitty” she then added.
“Oh, I know these frat boys they’re so rude. They always knock their coffee down on purpose” Kimberly said, hoping that that would help you.
“Did you take on of those anxiety pills?” Leighton asked.
“No, they’ve been empty for like three weeks but the pharmacy isn’t delivering them. I called like 60 times and I even went there but nothing. They’re ignoring me” you explained while playing with the blondes fingers to calm yourself down.
“Wait, are you still wearing the shirt with the oat milk on it?” Bela asked as her eyes wandered down to your shirt. You gave her a nod with your lips pressed into a thin line.
“Alright, get up. You’re going to change and then we are going to deal with the rest” you only whined, moving seemed really hard right now and you’d rather not do anything. But the blonde grabbed your hand and pulled you up and into her room. The others tried to give you privacy but couldn’t help the glance through the open door where they witnessed Leighton pulling the shirt over your head and helping you put on another one. You didn’t even need to be told to get on the bed, instead just immediately falling into it, burying your face in the pillow that smelled like your girlfriend.
“Are you gonna come cuddle?” Your voice was muffled due to the pillow which somehow made the whole thing even cuter to Leighton. She nodded and placed herself next to you so you could cuddle. The fact that you were now going to sleep while it wasn’t even 5 pm wasn’t something she liked as you’d definitely have problems sleeping later but she ultimately decided that an hour won’t hurt after the day you had. She’d just wake you up when it was time for dinner.
“No! I mean today, latest in 2 hours. I don’t care, we’ve been waiting for these meds for weeks now!” Leighton nearly screamed into the phone as she exited her room, “Look if you don’t want a lawsuit you’ll bring them in the next two hours. Oh trust me, I have the money to run you down until you do not have a penny anymore. Thank you very much” when she hung up the phone she saw three pair of eyes starring at her.
“What?” She asked her roommates.
“What was that?” Whitney asked, her brows furrowed while the rest also starred at her.
“That damn pharmacy that’s been blowing y/n off” she shrugged as she sat down next to Bela on the couch. “Oh, Kimberly. Do you still have that calming green tea?”
“Uhm, yeah I do. I think it’s in the drawer over there, take as many as you need” the girl pointed to a drawer close to the fridge making Leighton stand up to find the package.
“Great, thank you. I’m gonna get some of y/ns favorite snacks. Does anybody else want something?” After each of them added at least on snack she quickly walked to the small store on campus to get everything. Once she was back the medication was already in front of the door and she still had enough time to brew your tea before she wanted to wake you. “Alright everybody, here are your snacks” she announced as she placed their bag on the table, keeping yours safely stowed in her hand while she heated up a cup of water.
“Love, come on. Wake up, it’s dinner time soon” she carefully shook you awake before placing a soft kiss in your cheek.
“How long did I sleep?” You grumbled as you hid your face in her stomach, still way too sleepy to think clear. The way the blonde brushed her fingers through your hair nearly made fall back asleep.
“Like an hour, but it’s dinner time and you gotta eat something so up you go” she encouraged noticing your hesitation and the way your eyes were darting around endlessly. It was a typical thing you did when you got anxious. “Hey, it’s alright. I even got you your meds so your mind and body can relax a bit” She presented the meds and the tea to you after helping you sit up.
“Thank you” she only gave you a soft smile and wrapped an arm around you.
Not long after you sat in the cafeteria, just observing the discussion the table had while eating your food. Due to the medication you were a lot calmer, giving you time to rest. Your whole body leaned against Leightons something she actually encouraged. Except for Bela, who once saw Leighton and the first girl she knew of make out, no one of them had ever seen her this touchy with anybody.
“Hey what are you guys thinking about watching a movie before we go to sleep? There’s a new Netflix movie that I think we’d all enjoy” Kimberly suggested, earning a yes from everybody except Leighton who instead looked at you who said yes.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” She whispered to you who was laying on her shoulder. You really liked Kimberly and she was scared that you were only too nice to say no. The nod you gave her didn’t convince her at all so you grabbed her chin to title her head down making it easier for you to press a kiss to her lips.
“I promise I’m up for this” you reassured again, she nodded at you and then at Kimberly who happily clapped her hands.
After all of you finished eating you redecorated the dorms common room so all of you could sit comfortably while watching the movie on the small projector Leighton bought during on of her shopping trips. You sat in front of your girlfriend, your back against her front with a blanket over your legs. To everybodies surprise the movie was actually good and all of you enjoyed it. At least until your eyelids became heavier and you drifted to sleep in her arms. When she noticed that you were asleep she pulled the blanket higher and pressed a kiss to your forehead mumbling a quiet ‘sleep well’.
“Who knew Leighton Murray could be such a softie?” Whitney grinned as she looked at you two earning an agreeing nod from the other two.
“What?!” The blonde asked visibly confused.
“Dude you’re a simp for your girl” Bela laughed enjoying the look on her roommates face.
“I am not” she argued back. “You’re so lucky she’s asleep otherwise I’d beat you up”
“Well, she’d kinda right. But like in a good way, you really care for her and it’s very sweet” Kimberly explained knowing that Leighton wouldn’t do anything to her as you liked her too much. Something that actually proved what she just said.
“Whatever! You guys are crazy” she complained feeling you stir slightly in her arms, “and now be quiet before you wake her”
“Simp” Bela whispered while turning her focus back on the movie only to miss the pillow that was chucked her way.
She knew that she was soft for you and she loved it, she loved you. But that wasn’t her roommates business.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 2 months
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enter sandman - m. murdock
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a/n: see me personally? never seeing the pearly gates. never ever. not after this one . enjoy. feedback always appreciated ! <3 warnings: guys... where do i fucking start. SMUT. SMUT!!!! GRAPHIC PORN!!!! no plot!!!! degradation!!! dumbification!!!! praise!!!! oral!!! (m recieving) cursing!!!! nicknames!!!! reader is female and has female parts and she/her pronouns!!!!! matt is cocky, mean!dom!matt, the ending is kind of cute, lots of inappropriate use of matts senses, uhhh guys let me know if i missed any because... wow. word count: 4.2k summary: you have a hard time sleeping. the devil has a few games in mind to tire you out. pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader now playing: enter sandman - metallica "exit light/enter night/take my hand/we're off to never-never land"
You have a horrible habit. Okay, you wouldn’t really consider it to be a habit per say, but you’re not proud of it. You will for it to end.
You can never seem to fall asleep. Staying asleep is easy, but getting there is a problem. Your mind is always racing, which causes you to spiral into a whirlpool of anxieties. You’re too busy thinking about your job, or what you’ll eat tomorrow, or when you’ll be doing your next load of laundry.
But most of all, what keeps you up at night is worrying about the devil. And not in the sense that you’re a holy catholic who wants to repent for her sins, either. Your worry for the devil comes because you’re hopelessly in love with him.
And you worry that one day he will come home damaged beyond repair. Maybe one day he will not come home at all, and you’ll have to hear about it on the news the next morning. It’s a hellish existence, loving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, but you make do.
Like tonight—You had baked brownies earlier in the night, and then read your book for the better part of the night. You won’t allow yourself to fall asleep because the possibility of seeing him overwhelms you. But as the hours pass, you begin to lose hope.
And just as you you’re beginning to accept that he won’t be coming to see you and you’re really letting yourself drift, you feel a warm hand on your neck. He’s taken his gloves off tonight. You consider yourself blessed.
“Hi,” You mumble softly, your brain going all fuzzy with even just that bit of contact. You’ve missed him. “Was beginning to think you’d never show.”
But your devil is in no mood for simple pleasantries tonight.
“What have I told you about waiting up for me?”
“Not to?”
“I said,” His hand moves from its gentle place against your neck to grip your chin, “As long as you leave the window open I’ll know to just come in and take what I need.”
Your face flushes, and he grins, because he can tell that he’s making you flustered.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“No one’s laughing at you, sweetheart.” He hums.
“You are.” He shrugs gently. He’s wearing his black suit tonight, and it’s making you feel… a lot of things.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Damn him.
“Nothing!”
He leans forward and kisses you softly, and you lean up to try and kiss him further, but he pulls away, his grip returning to your chin, to keep you just centimeters away. The devil is an expert at reading you, despite his lack of sight. He has developed the habit of studying you, and knows that as of late, you’re not allowing yourself the pleasure of sleeping. He knows it’s because you’re so anxious and worried about every little thing, so tonight.. He intends to fix it. Or at least, maybe come up with a temporary solution.
“Liar.” He whispers and moves away further. “I’m not going to touch you until you tell me.”
Your devil is many things, but he does not bluff. He has this will of steel.
“I prefer it when you wear the black suit,” You tell him, “It’s not very protective, I know. But you look good in it.”
He makes a noise of realization, before moving his hand to slip under the hem of your shirt, resting his hand on your stomach. You shiver a bit, his hand warm against your skin. That’s what you get for wearing a tee shirt and shorts to bed every night, he’d tell you.
“That’s my smart girl.” Your heart flutters. “Mm, you really like that huh?”
“You’re awful.” You always pretend to hate how he reads you, but secretly, although you suspect he knows it, you love that someone knows you so well. He grins and his hands move again, this time picking you up into his arms and carrying you to the bedroom. “Hey! Not cool, we talked about picking up when we have no warning—” You cut yourself off with a grunt when he tosses you onto the bed.
“Shut up.”
He hears no objections.
Just as quickly as you’re thrown on the bed, he is above you, mask still on, kissing your neck.
“Wanna play a game, sweetheart?” He asks, hands on your hips, his fingers creeping up the hem of your shirt. You shiver again, and he just grins “You can answer.”
“Sure. I like games.” Your voice is meek, too busy enjoying all the contact with him. He hums softly.
“I know you do, and you’re just so good at them.” You grin against his skin as he kisses your cheek. “See that? That’s what I want to know.” You’re a bit lost.
“Know what?”
“I want to know what turns you on more— praising you or degrading you.”
What a fun game to play with a human lie detector.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, let’s play.” You confirm. He kisses you quickly.
“Good girl.” You hum softly, but it isn’t quite what he’s looking for. It’s good, don’t get him wrong, but he’s after more. “Tell me about your day, baby.” He continues to plant kisses along your skin. You know this isn’t a request but rather a requirement of the game.
“Well, I had work today, then I had to stop at the grocery store. I made dinner and—” You’re cut off by a kiss to a sensitive spot on your neck, because you can’t help but let out a gasp of pleasure.
“What? A few kisses and you’re already turning dumb for me?” You shudder softly, your heartbeat steadily increasing. The deep cadence of his voice paired with his words make you want to just melt. “Oh, there she is..”
He lets go of your arms for just a moment to slip your shirt off.  Then, your hands are back above your head, held down by his grip. He moves on from your neck and begins to kiss down.
“I like this game.” You manage out, and he chuckles.
“I know you do. You know how?”
You think about it for a moment before you answer. You want to be right.
“You can hear my heartbeat?”
“And I can smell you. You like this a lot. More than you like me?” He continues to kiss down your torso.
You don’t answer for a second. He bites your skin gently, prompting you to answer.
“No.” You answer, “No, I don’t like anything.. anyone more than you.”
He kisses the spot where he bit softly.
“Even smart girls need to be reminded sometimes.” Is all he says before he continues to kiss you. You try to hide it, try to hide your reaction to the words, but he grins against your skin.
“Matt..” you groan out softly because his kisses have stopped.
“What?”
“Why’d you stop?” You whined.
“You’re my smart girl, why don’t you tell me?” You pause, biting your lip. “Is it because you can’t? Do you like being dumb for me, smart girl?” You want to defend yourself, but he bites your skin again.
“Yes!” you respond, and he does the same thing he did before—He kisses where he bit.
“Good girl.” He responds. “I like making you dumb just from a few kisses anyways.” He tells you, finally reaching your stomach with his kisses. “I love my dumb little smart girl.” The cadence he has to his voice makes you whine again. He knows every part of you, even the parts you never wanted to tell him about. He’s just too observant. “I love that despite how well behaved and good you are, you’re dumb enough to be talked down to like this, by some strange man who just crawled through your window.”
You answer before you can think about it. You’re smart enough to know that he’s at least half right.
“You’re not just anyone, you’re my Matt.”
“Your Matt?” He hums. “Your Matt, My ditzy smart girl.” He grins, before placing one last kiss right above the waistline of your shorts.
He moves so he can kiss your lips again, kissing you quick before pulling off his mask so you can see his face. He has a cut on his forehead and a bruise forming on his cheek. It’s clear he had a good night though, or else this wouldn’t be happening.
“Your face..” You frown, concern in your voice.
“Observant and smart?” He teases, kissing your forehead. “What happened to wanting to be dumb for me?”
You’re almost embarrassed of it now.
“You’re being mean.” You say quietly.
“Mean? Me? To my best girl?” He kisses you quickly again. “Never.” He hums. One of his hands goes down to your thigh, his fingertips inching up.
“Never.” You echo.
“What do you say, smart girl?” He asks, “Wanna play a few more games? See just how desperate I can make you?”
You huff at his words, your brain short circuiting to the point where you speak before you can really think.
“I just want you to fuck me!”
He stops just as he’s about to pull off your shorts and slithers back up so the pair of you are face to face.
“First of all,” he places a kiss to your lips gently, “You are not in a position to be making demands, pretty girl. Second,” He kisses you again, “Such a foul mouth for such a dumb baby,” You let off a soft whine, and he has the audacity to mock your whine, “I know, it’s not much of a lecture when you like when I talk to you like this,” He hums. “And third, I know you’re smarter than to be a brat.” He says gently, kissing you again.
“I’m not a brat.” You whine, and again, he mocks you before devolving into a deep chuckle, leaning in to kiss you.
“I love you.” He says, with a grin on his face.
He’s gentle with you for a few moments, softer. You decide that now is your chance, and if you don’t act now, you’ll spend the rest of your night under his thumb. So, you flip over and have him under you, as you sit on his lower stomach. His hands come up to the back of your thighs.
“I’ve got you now, Devil.” You grin, leaning in to kiss him. But before you can, he’s flipping you back over, keeping you pinned by your legs.
“Brat.” he accuses, leaning in to kiss you again. You huff. “Easy, pretty girl, your attitude is getting the best of you.”
You frown and turn your head when he goes to kiss you.
“Tell me I’m not a brat and I’ll kiss you.” You demand, and he grins, but this time it isn’t soft. It’s almost wicked. He grabs your chin roughly and tilts your head towards him, before kissing you roughly.
“What did I tell you?” he asks. “Come on, smart girl, I know you remember.”
“That I was in no position to make demands?”
“That’s right.” He coos, “Now, baby, do you want to hear what I had planned for you tonight?”
You must admit, you’re very curious.
“Sure, Matty.” His grin widens.
“Well, I was planning on playing this little game with you, then eating you out until your thighs are shaking,” You let out a whine, but he just shushes you softly, “Sh, sh, sh… You wanted to hear, so listen.” He hums. “Then, I was going to fuck you until you were full of my cum.” He tells you.
Then, he lets out a disappointed sigh.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“That was what I was planning on, but because you decided to be a brat, I have a new plan.”
“I liked that plan so much though..”
“I know, Sweetheart, me too.. But you’re the one who ruined it.” He reminded, leaning in, and biting your jaw between his fingers. His hand positioning is not exactly choking, but the grip is tight enough to leave marks. He feels you grind your hips up a bit, and chuckles again. “Smart girl, already figuring out what’s next.”
You tilt your head in confusion, but before you know it, he’s repositioning you so you’re in his lap at the edge of the bed. He pats your thigh gently.
“Get up for me, Honey. Then you got to take your shorts off for me.” You do as you’re told, no longer interested in fucking up his plans. Then, he pulls you back onto his lap, and he hums gently. You decide to take a risk and bring your hands up to his jaw, and then up towards his mask.
“Please?” You ask gently. “Wanna see you..” He nods softly, letting you pull off his mask, as his head tilts to the side to kiss your palm.
“You remember who’s in charge, right, sweetheart?”
“You, devil.”
“That’s right, angel.” He praises, “And that’s why you’re going to ride my thigh.” You let out a soft whine, and he shakes his head, “No, no whining from you, sweet girl. You wanted to be a brat, so you gotta reap what you sew.”
He holds your hips as you begin to grind against his thigh, and Matt focuses on the way your breathing hitches as you rub against his thigh. Your hands grip his shoulders as he begins to kiss your neck again.
Your skin burns with need, and your hips roll faster as your breath speeds up, and slowly, minute by minute, you’re edging closer to your release. But he knows you’re close to coming undone not only because of how your skin is hot, and your breath is airy, but because you’re making such a mess.
You’re definitely staining his pant leg with your wetness, because after his insatiable teasing, you’re just desperate for him, and oh so sensitive. The speed of your grinding increases, and then, because he wants to see you break, he starts to bounce his leg up so that in addition to your grinding, it’s overwhelming you.
“Matt,” you say, breathlessly. “Matt, please..”
“Please what, smart girl? What do you want?” He’s really going to make you ask for it. This is all part of his game.
“Please..” You start, resting your head on his shoulder. “Please, can I come?”
“What was that, baby? I didn’t hear you.”
Oh, now he’s being a fucking dick. You know he can hear you, with his damned super senses. Nonetheless, you pick your head up and manage to get it out.
“Please let me come,” You beg, and he laughs.
“You know what’s funny, baby?” You let out a whine. “You’re so smart, always holding the world on your shoulders, and yet.. A little bit of teasing and riding my thigh, and you can barely get a sentence out.. You’re being so good for me, baby. So good at following orders,” He bites your neck. “So, go ahead and come for me, sweet girl.”
As soon as those words leave his lips, you’re letting go, the tight knot in your stomach finally snapping. You moan into his ear, his hands on your side to keep you stable as you come undone. He keeps bouncing his leg to have you ride out your high as your legs begin to shake. You’re making all of these pretty noises for him, and the smell of your juices are overwhelming for him.
“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, kissing you softly. He’s back to being rather gentle with you. But his cock is incredibly hard against his pants, and he needs to feel you clench around him. “Can my pretty baby ride my cock?” You’re shaking but you nod gently.
He knows you’re verging on the edge of being unable to do much else, but he wants to see how far he can push you. So, he pats your leg again and you stand up. His hands come up to undo your bra and pull off your panties.
He holds them in his hands for a moment, breathing in deeply as your scent continues to overwhelm him. He wastes no more time, pulling off his shirt and then starting to unbuckle his black pants. On instinct, you’re on your knees, with this.. primal desire to suck him off.
He takes a deep breath, his hand going to your hair and pushing your hair from your face. You lean into his touch, smiling softly up at him. He knows how much you like just thoughtless sex—You value long, intimate nights too, but after a long week, you need to shut off your brain and he needs to take control.
“Wanna suck my cock first, baby? You’re so good for me..” He says softly, slipping down his boxers.
“Just wanna be good for you,” You hum, eying his glistening hardness. You can’t deny that he looks truly crafted by the hands of God—Most of his body is glistening with sweat, cock glistening with precum. He is heavenly and the only thing you’ll ever want to worship.
“You’re so good for me. My dumb little smart girl.” The name form earlier makes you weak, as you lean in and begin to lick his tip. His hand grips your hair as he inhales sharply. “Careful, sweetheart.” He tells you, beginning to guide you in sucking him dry.
His hand guides you as your head bobs against his cock, the taste of him turning your brain further into mush. He makes sure to guide you at a steady pace, moaning out praise, and occasionally degradation.
“So fucking good for me,” He gasps out, “My good little girl.. Sucking my cock so good—Ah, fuck..” He gasps as you quicken your pace. “Sucking me like the little slut you are..” You moan against cock at that, and he gasps, before it devolves into a low chuckle. “And you like it, too.. Being called my little slut.. Good little slut, just for me.. Got you trained so well..” He holds on for a few more moments before he comes into your mouth, panting softly.
His cum dribbles down your chin as you swallow most of it, so his hand comes up to your chin to gently wipe the dribble off before he slips his thumb into your mouth.
“Every last drop for me, angel.” He requests. You happily suck on his thumb for a few moments while he recovers. Then, he leans down and picks you up, resting you on the bed again. “Now you’re gonna ride me, right, pretty?”
“Mhm..” You smile, and as soon as he lays back on the bed, you’re on top of him. His cock slides against your folds and you whine a bit, just desperate for the feeling of him filling you up. “You know how badly I want your cock..” He grins at this.
“You have it, angel. Just gotta ride me, okay?” You hum in response. You slowly lower yourself down onto his cock, taking a few minutes to adjust to the size of him. But your slow pace is not quick enough for Matt, whose hands find your hips (for the millionth time tonight) and quickly slides his entire length into you.
You moan loudly, a feeling of pain and pleasure blurring together as he hits just the right spot to make you see stars.
“Matt, fuck,” You whine, wanting to take a second to catch your breath.
“Color?” It’s a safe word system—He knows he might have taken it a tad too far, pushing into you like that.
“Green,” You promise.
“Okay, good.” He leans up and kisses your forehead gently, a sign of the gentleness that resides in his demeanor despite just how into his dominate behavior you are. He begins to roll his hips, and revels in the sound of the pretty screams coming out of your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “I’ve got you fucked dumb, baby? Can’t even ride my cock properly?” He asks, pulling you in to kiss your skin.
“No,” You protest, “I can do it,” It comes out whinier than you wanted it to—Much whinier, but you can’t deny that he’s wrong about that first part. Your brain is blurry in the best way. He hums in approval before gently pushing you away from his lips.
“Prove it, then.” He demands, and his hips are no longer bucking into you. Instead, you shakily begin to bounce against his cock, using his moans and gasps as guidance. His hands grip your thighs as you ride him. “There you go, angel. It’s not too much for you, right?” He hums.
“No!” You protest again, “No, Sir, I can take it,” He grins at the slip of the title. He swats the side of your thigh, rubbing it softly after you yelp, but it quickens your pace. His brain is beginning to fog too, so he knows he wants to get a few more comments out.
“Fucking liar,” he laughs, “Even when your.. fuck..” He gasps, the feeling of you clenching around him overwhelming him. “When you’re bouncing on my cock and moaning for me, you’re still lying..” His one hand travels to play with your clit, rubbing small circles into it. “So,” He takes a deep breath, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder, before picking his head back up. “I’ll ask you again.. Is it too much for you, my ditzy girl?”
Tears prick your eyes, as you will your brain to come up with a comprehensive answer.
“Yes!” You admit, “it’s too much,” You pant, but because you don’t say ‘red’ he keeps going.
“Aw, I know, honey,” He plants a soft kiss to your lips, the hand that isn’t rubbing circles into your clit coming up to brush sweaty hair from your face. “But you can take it. Come on, sweet thing, I know..” He hums. “Come for me, baby..”
And you do—You come hard, your vision going white for a fraction of a second as you let out these angelic noises. He doesn’t give a damn about noise complaints right now, all he can focus on is the smell of your sweat, your cum, and your pretty little noises.
You continue to rock your hips, wanting to feel his cum fill you up. And after a few more minutes, your wish comes true, as he grips your hip tightly with one hand as he comes deep inside you, as you roll your hips just a few more times, riding the last waves of a euphoric high.
His chest is heaving as you slump down against his chest. The pair of you are sweating, but he still looks so beautiful like this. His cock still fills you, his cum deep within you. His hand gently runs up and down your back,
“How’s my sweet girl doing..?” He’s afraid he went too far with you, hoping his words didn’t push you into a bad headspace. It’s happened before, where you just needed time to come back to reality. But tonight, you’re exhausted in a whole new way. You’re happy that you’ll actually be able to sleep.
“I’m good,” You promise. You’re sweaty, out of breath and completely fucked out of your mind.
He takes your jaw in his hand and tilts your head up so you’re looking in his general direction.
“You know I don’t really think you’re dumb, right?” He just needs to make sure.
“I know,” You giggle, “But it’s pretty hot in the moment. Besides, you took care of me.”
He grins and kisses your forehead.
“I’ll always take care of you.” He promises. You know he means it, too. Your Matty, always taking care of you. “You know you don’t need to worry about everything, right? You don’t have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I know,” You start, “But you’re always so busy with the firm, and being Daredevil, and—” He hushes you softly.
“I am never too busy for you.” He says gently. “I know I can’t do your job for you, but I can be more careful and help with dinner, you know.” He just wants you to be less stressed all the time, the hypocrite.
“Okay.” You say gently. “Thank you, Matt.” He holds you close and places a soft kiss to your head.
“You’re still shaking,” He says gently, “But you need to shower.” He says softly, moving now so that he can carry you to your bathroom. You whine at the feeling of emptiness you’re left with when he slides out of you, and he just laughs. “I know, Baby, I know.”
Matt is just a general fan of taking care of you. Even when you’re fucked out of your mind like you are right now. You love that about him.
You love that the devil is so devoted to you. It stirs something deep inside you that you can’t quite voice. Matt knows it, too.
623 notes · View notes
moonydustx · 2 months
Text
To belong to you
requests | mastelist Pairing: Trafalgar D. Law x F! Reader Summary: sequel of A not so funny story. In this one, we see Law dealing with a somewhat stubborn reader, while he can barely deal with his feelings. Warnings: fluffy, a little hotter at the end, violence, Law exposing his feelings (this will always be a warning for me). W/C: 3.5K a/c: tried not to take so long to produce, but I ended up getting carried away by the text. Regarding the smutty, I'm thinking about bringing it to a third part, I believe this one was too big. Hope you like.
requested by anon: ok ok now m waiting for a sequel with an overprotective-clingy-lover emo boy Law who keeps reader at his sight❣️ ~ maybe a smutty? idk just give me some more Law
Part 1 | Part 3 (NSFW)
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A week, two days and a few hours.
For a week, two days and a few hours Law's sleep became scarcer - which seemed impossible - at the same time, he seemed to have found a new hobby. You.
Since the fateful day he discovered what he had done, even if unconsciously, Law had made it his duty to be your support point. At the same time, even though he dedicated himself to repairing this mistake, nightmares continued to haunt the little sleep he still had. Some days, it was as if he only revisited the afternoon he saw you hurt. In others, it was as if he was fully aware of what he had done.
You didn't complain about all that attention. Of course, the guilt was clear in his eyes and you wished you could lift such a burden from him, but Law's temperament was already known as irreducible, it was almost impossible for you to become the person who would change that.
Sleep had also left you aside that night. Maybe because you were anxious, the next morning you would be emerging on the next island and you would finally see the sunlight again. Maybe your mind kept playing tricks and unlike the nightmares that Law had, you kept having dreams that were closer and closer to him.
What you had left that night was to catch up on your studies. The small stack of books piled up next to your small green notebook while you had been sitting on one of the cafeteria benches for half an hour facing the same calculation.
"I didn't expect to find company at this hour." Law appeared at the cafeteria entrance. The same tired eyes, but the gentle tone in his voice pleased you. "Sleepless?"
"I've been in bed for a long time this week, Captain. What about you, sleepless?"
"I ended up distracted by reading. I just came to get something to eat." he walked past you, heading over to one of the counters. "Did you remember to drink your tea?"
"Perhaps." you just responded and you could hear him grumble in response. It only took a few minutes for the cup to appear in front of him. "Do I really need to take this? It's horrible!"
"It's a medicine, its function is to be horrible, but to end up curing you." surprising you, he sat next to you. Next to it, a plate with some onigiris. You just looked at Law and your horrible cup of tea. "What?"
"How can such a pretty drink, full of flowers, be so horrible?"
"Drink it." in a way, you knew that his impatient tone at that moment wasn't serious at all. "I promise to reward you."
"Saying it like that, I feel like a child." you grumbled, taking a sip of your drink and trying to avoid the disgusted look on your face. Law, unlike you, seemed to enjoy his late dinner. "Next time, please give me poison. I will die happy."
"Good girl, congratulations." he said, in a cynical tone. Even so, the words pointed to another place in your mind. "I bet it wasn't that horrible."
"Said the one who's gorging himself on onigiri." With your complaint, Law just stretched out the piece he had already taken a bite of.
Maybe your intrusive thoughts, maybe it was just the desire to get the horrible taste out of your mouth, but you accepted what he offered.
She's just taking a piece. Law's mind looped through the seconds you bit the food. The lack of sleep must be playing tricks on him, making him imagine things he shouldn't. Are your lips as soft as they seem?
"So. What are you studying?" Law's brain went blank, searching for the first random topic that crossed his mind.
"Blood. In fact, I took a calculation to do and ended up getting lost. In the book it seems so much simpler."
"Let me see." He set the plate aside and approached your notebook.
Gray eyes looked attentively at each written number and you were busy analyzing it. The smell that came from him was the same as the t-shirt you had worn that day, his eyes had clear dark circles beneath them and even though it wasn't perfectly done, the little beard he had seemed to outline his face and seemed to match the dark tone. of the small piece of his tattoo that showed.
"So…" he began, pointing to the notebook. "Here, you're taking the wrong route. To calculate this type of transfusion, first you have to base it on the patient's weight and then use this formula. See."
You were too distracted by him and he was too distracted by the silly calculation you were so lost in. When he turned to ask if you understood, the only thing he found were your eyes watching him. Just a few centimeters away, his eyes danced between yours and your lips, wondering if the action would be hasty. Maybe it wasn't ideal to take the risk.
"Nerd." You muttered, letting out a small laugh.
"Just smarter than you." he replied, pulling away a little. "Take one more."
"Thank you captain!"
The night passed faster than you expected. Accompanied by Law, you spent most of the night redoing some exercises while he helped you, or at least watched you. And even though sleep hit your body, it was hard to close your eyes and sleep after spending so much time with him.
The morning came quickly and as usual on the days you emerged, you and Bepo were standing just staring at the sun on your skin. Some other companions were already beginning to disembark.
"I found you." Law's voice brought them both out of their little sunbath. "You take care of buying food."
"Ay captain!" Bepo reached out his hand, picking up the berries.
"You." He turned around, looking at you seriously. "No running, no heavy lifting, no long walks."
"All right, boss." you saluted, just to annoy him and watched him leave, without giving much more explanation.
The afternoon passed quickly in the small village. At least in the commercial part of the village, everything seemed very busy and colorful, as well as having huge taverns that you would definitely go to.
In addition to you and Bepo, the two also dragged Clione along for the task, which wasn't enough. Despite the captain's clear warning, you managed to convince Bepo that it was just an idle worry, which ended with you carrying some bags under your back.
"Need help?" the bear climbed Polar Tang first, reaching out to you.
As soon as you appeared in the Heart Pirates captain's field of vision, you knew you were in trouble. The blue dome enveloped you and soon the weight lifted from your back. Instead, two small flowers appeared on the ground.
"It seems the two of them decided to ignore my warning." Law grumbled as you picked up the two colorful branches that were at your feet.
"My fault, there's no need to fight him." you took the lead, going to where Law was standing. Around him, in addition to the bags he had taken from you, were a few small bouquets of plants and flowers, all as colorful as the city they had just visited. "What are these?"
"Just a few missing ingredients can become medicine, tea, ointments." he bent down, plucking a small yellow flower and handing it to you. "Something tells me your favorite is this one."
"Oh, God no." the image of last night's horrible tea came to mind. you held the flower up to your nose. The sweet smell was delicious, but just remembering the taste made your stomach turn. "It's so beautiful, but so bad." you made to return it, seeing him raise his hand and deny it.
"It is not necessary."
"Thanks." you laughed, pinning the small flower to the zipper of your jumpsuit.
"Captain." two humming voices came towards you. "What do you think about going to a bar today?"
"You can go." he responded to Shachi and Penguim, who were not convinced and joined in a chorus of please. "I'm not in the mood."
"Please, Captain. The town seems nice, I bet the bars are too." you joined the other two, interceding.
You knew that Law wasn't the most sociable person in the world, but if there was something you could boast about, it was your power of persuasion - which you hadn't yet realized only worked on him.
"Okay, okay." he gave up, seeing the three of you cheer up and Bepo shouting happily in the background. "However, no alcohol for you."
"Yet?" you grumbled, but his expression already made the answer clear. Your power of persuasion wouldn't work this time.
You weren't the type to take alcohol seriously enough for it to bother you, just going to a new place would be good enough for you. As soon as night fell, you started getting ready. As much as you wanted to wear something lighter, you didn't know how comfortable you would feel showing the scar on your leg, even though it was already partially healed, it wasn't such a pretty sight. You put on pants and a simple, comfortable blouse and headed towards the bar with Ikkaku.
Law watched you from afar. Unlike most of the women there, you weren't balancing on thin heels or with a face so adorned with colors that made your real expression disappear. You were you.
He saw you sit at one of the tables with the other companions. Everyone with drinks in front of them, except you. He could use some alcohol on him to give him the courage he lacked, but he knew it would be unfair. Ignoring the judgmental looks, he ordered two glasses of juice and took them to the table, looking for a place to sit.
"No vodka?" Ikkaku looked at the cup in front of you and the cup in front of the captain. "This is new."
"I'm banned until further notice." you replied, raising your glass to toast your captain. "At least someone had compassion on me."
"So cute." Ikkaku cheered and you surreptitiously tried to elbow her. "So, I saw people playing in the background. She can play, right captain?"
"As long as she doesn't bet Polar Tang." he replied, a shy smile on his lips. As much as he didn't admit it out loud, something woke up in him when the two of you were in some way related. "I think betting a mink could make some good money." he turned to Bepo, who immediately complained.
"Never!" you stood up, placing yourself next to Ikkaku and picking up your glass. "I'll be right back, I'll take the money from some idiots." you smiled, turning your face towards your captain. A soundless thank you left your lips, as you pointed to the glass in your hands.
Law tried to disguise it, tried to ignore your presence. It was as if your body had some kind of magnet, which made it find you in the midst of so many people who crowded into that bar.
The first time he looked at you, you and Ikkaku were side by side singing something that he couldn't hear from where he was, around you some other people were singing and others were playing cards. He could see some looks that bothered him. Why did they look at you like that? Law could feel the repulsion of those men, even from a distance.
The second time, the two of you seemed to be dealing the cards. A man next to you, one of the same ones who was looking at you, seemed to whisper something in your ear that seemed to have offended you. The expression soon disappeared from your face, returning to a calm expression. At that moment, Law could feel his body tingle and had to suppress the urge to make the man's head roll off his body, even though he had no idea what he had said to you.
The third time, the only thing Law saw was your head being pushed against the table, after that he only saw red and pure hatred in front of him. The other crew members with whom he shared the table only noticed a small playing card slowly fall towards the upholstery.
This time you hadn't stolen in the game but apparently some bastard decided you were hiding some cards. You felt your head against the table and you could hear Ikkaku swear. You could easily get out of there and reach for your dagger hidden in your boot, you could also trip and see the guy hit his own head against the table. You knew you wouldn't need to do anything when you saw a blue dome appear in front of you.
Unlike the many times you had seen him fight, Law didn't use his sword or his devil fruit. His hands reached for the man, twisting his arm and slamming his head against the table, ten times harder than what had been done to yours. The other man, who was restraining Ikkaku, immediately released her.
"What happened?" he asked and you knew the question was directed at you, even though he kept pinning the man against the table.
"They thought we were stealing in the game."
"He said we would pay for what we stole from him with money or anything else we could offer." Ikkaku added, as you stood up and untied your clothes.
"The bastard likes to threaten others." Law muttered and within seconds, the man's head rolled on the table, as he screamed desperately, not understanding what had happened. Looking around, Law reached for a small knife and immediately stuck it to the side of the man's head. "Next time I see you, I won't need to use any power to rip your head off."
Law walked away, his eyes immediately searched for you. You had your back to him, checking to see if your friend had gotten hurt.
"Are you two okay?" he walked closer, searching for any signs of injury on the two of you. At that point in the fight, the entire crew was already gathered alongside.
"It's okay captain, it was just that asshole. The others tried to help us." Ikkaku explained.
"Understood." He tried to calm things down, still thinking about what that stupid guy could have done if, for some moment, you had left his sight.
"For today, that's enough." you sighed, trying to give your best smile, which with all the stress caused, seemed impossible. "I'm going back to Polar Tang. I think today's activities tired me out."
You lied, blatantly. You weren't tired, on the contrary. The whole fight, Law showing up to defend you, that had lit you up. The only question that was going through your head was where Law's anger had come from. It wasn't the first time you ended up fighting with someone in a bar and every time Law would just laugh a little or if things got out of hand, He gave a little fright to anyone who even touched his crew. Today the gray eyes that accompanied you so much appreciate you full of fury.
"I'll join you. You guys, enjoy." Law took out some berries and placed them in Ikkaku's hand. "The next rounds are on me."
Bepo made to accompany you two, but was stopped by his friends. They seemed to see the entire situation clearer than the two of you ever would.
The walk to the submarine was quiet, much quieter than you were used to. Despite the beat, your head didn't hurt besides the fact that you saw Law analyze every inch of you after the argument.
Even after entering Polar Tang, silence prevailed between the two of you, it bothered you a lot more than you tried to show. Taking much smaller steps than Law's, you tried to catch up to him before he locked himself in his room and then you'm will only see him the next morning.
"Hang on!" You tried to follow him and even though you couldn't see his face, you knew he had heard you. "Captain!"
"I don't want to talk about it right now." he replied, stopping in front of his room.
"I am sorry but no." you replied and understanding that perhaps you had a discussion too serious to have there in the middle of the corridor, you just indicated the door behind him. "Let's just talk, just five minutes of your attention, okay?"
He could feel the blood boil in his veins, the words burned in Law's throat. Damn that damn bar, damn all the things that still haunted his mind. He had fallen, and fallen hard.
"I understand." you leaned the door behind you, keeping your arms crossed. "I understand all your concern, I mean, you have been carrying a burden that is not yours."
"No?" he laughed, almost cynically. "I won't apologize for that."
"What about all that at the bar?" you asked, approaching him. "About almost killing a guy over a card game."
"He was hurting you." the words came out of his mouth, bluntly.
You stopped a few centimeters away from him, watching him. You wanted to sound intimidating, you wanted to impose yourself on him, but it was him. It was the serious eyes looking down on you, the posture, the smell that emanated from him. As much as your brain tried to deny it, something in you liked - almost needed - Law to protect you.
"You know I'm not that fragile, right?" You held his arms, looking for even the slightest reaction. "I don't break so easily, if that's what makes you worry about me so much."
Law wished he had more time to plan, he wished he hadn't been as close to you as he was last week. That cat and mouse hunt between the two of you worked for a long time. It worked when he watched someone talk for too long over you and he chose to leave his jealousy aside, it worked when he watched you fight so many times and chose not to intrude, it worked when he saw your curves marked by any other clothes you wore ,except the crew's overalls, and he had to try his best not to look. It worked, sentence passed, something left aside.
"I like you." he began, the words coming out like relief from his lips. "I like you and to be honest, I don't know how to deal with it."
"Why not?"
"We are pirates, I have enemies, people who can use this to target me." he pointed to the space between the two of you. "I don't know if I can handle this, damn, I could barely hold my own against a drunk at the bar. I like you too much to risk you."
Just like the day he had seen you injured, his hands found your face, holding it as if it were the most precious thing Law had ever laid his hands on.
"I have a proposal." your hands found his, caressing them. "Here, in this room, just here it will be Law and me. Without all the worries of a captain, without all the responsibilities of a crew member, without fears. Just you and me, one belonging to the other. No one needs to know."
You wanted to say that maybe it wouldn't work and that maybe the two of you would just come out of this story more broken. You could also say that you would understand if he hated the idea. Before any words found the sound of the room, your lips were stolen by his.
None of Law's thoughts matched what he was feeling. Your lips giving way so he could taste a little of you. Your hands left his and spread out over the small gap in the open shirt he wore. Every inch of your body still seemed small for him to explore, his hands went down to your waist, almost merging his body with yours. He could stay there, in that room trapped with you for days. Damn the life of a captain, damn all the rationality he valued so much, you were more than enough.
"So…" you moved a few millimeters away from him, looking for just enough space to catch your breath.
One of his hands went up to your chin, one of his fingers running over your swollen and red lips in an almost sinful caress. How long did he wait to be like that?
One of his hands tangled in your hair, gently squeezing it so you could give him space. Law's lips - now warmer than when they first touched you - ran down your neck. You wouldn't take Law for an avid lover, but the way he held your body to his said completely the opposite.
"I accept your proposal." His low voice whispered next to your ear. His mind took him to dark places, but a little rationality still kept him lucid. "But maybe, maybe we should stop for now."
"No, we shouldn't." Serene eyes looked at him, but the malice in your words was clear.
"Yeah, we shouldn't."
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nonstoplover · 9 months
Text
sleep without you ~ charles leclerc (cl16)
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
song inspiration: sleep without you ~ brett young
summary: charles struggles to function properly without her by his side, or a story of a night without his girlfriend.
words: 2.1K
warnings: nothing, just fluff and a slightly clingy charles baby <3
a/n: idk why but this song honestly screams charles to me whenever i hear it, so i just had to make it happen. also this was supposed to be posted on my one year f1-aversary as celebration (well technically it should be more if counting my childhood f1 years but anyway), but i was so caught up in another wip that i couldn't do it. so happy anniversary to me and f1 (two weeks late) with this lil ficlet <3 thankful for all that f1 gave me.
big thanks to the amazing lovely silverstonesainz for helping me make this better and to the equally awesome monzabee for making me much less anxious with her words. love you sm queens!!
please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!
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Charles spends a whole afternoon trying to convince her to have a night out with her friends. Just because they're in a relationship doesn't mean they can't have fun without the other as well from time to time. There are still a couple of weeks left of winter break, plenty of opportunity to spend time just the two of them before the season starts again. So the usual point of view, the usual reasoning doesn't stand a chance – that they should spend as much time together as they can, before he's back to travelling all around the world.
"Go to a club, grab some drinks, dance and laugh the night away", he tells her. The usual bestie coffee dates or walks in the park that she usually raises as argument are not the same as a night out, and she hasn't done that for so long now. Definitely not since he's been back home, and he knows just how much she enjoys dancing her heart out.
(y/n) agrees after a short while, accepting his reasons, knowing full well that he's right, and after a few phone calls she starts getting ready, soon walking out the front door, dressed all pretty and dolled up.
Doesn't take long before Charles realises what he's done. A feeling tingles in his chest, one he recognises swiftly. He's miserable. Solely because she's not there by his side, as he makes dinner, eats it – all by himself –, before settling on the couch to occupy himself with a movie. It doesn't matter though, he doesn't pay any attention to it. He doesn't even know what's going on, he hasn't heard a single line, too busy thinking about her.
When the credits start to roll, he switches the TV off with a surprised look in his eyes – how did it already end? He doesn't even remember the first scene ending. Then he moves into the bathroom to do his night routine, from taking a shower to putting on some skincare products, all the while wondering how long she will be out for? Will she come home soon? Hope tingles in his chest that the answer to his question is yes.
Having finished with everything, Charles lies down in bed, trying to read a book, then scrolling on social media, doing anything to keep his mind from straying over and over again back to her. He knows this is stupid, he was the one telling her to go out, why is he like this now? Lying awake on his side of the bed, the fingers on his right hand tracing figures onto the sheet where her body usually rests.
This is pathetic, Charles thinks. He never thought he would be like this, so miserable and impatient just because she's not at home, with him. He's tossing around, unable to find a comfortable position for himself – it seems like he forgot how to sleep without her. No matter how many times he's had to do just that, in hotel rooms all around the world. The past few weeks erased all those nights from his mind.
The delicious scent of her shampoo fills his lungs when his face lands just a bit too close to her pillow, and all of a sudden it's like he's burying his nose in her hair. It only makes him miss her more. Sleeping is impossible, he knows it now. He's only daydreaming, not actually dreaming, of her arriving home and being in his arms again.
Charles imagines the way she dances in the middle of the floor, her hands in the air, shouting the lyrics loudly to the song currently playing – most probably something she knows and loves –, and he can't help but smile fondly. Just the thought of her having fun is enough to make him happier, even in his misery.
He pictures a scene where a random guy tries to get too close to her, as it has happened so many times, whenever he leaves her alone for a few minutes at any club they've been to. It doesn't matter where they are, doesn't matter if they spent the night so far together, all over each other, someone comes into the picture immediately when he leaves, either to grab a drink for the two of them, or to go to the restrooms.
It's not like he doesn't understand those guys. She's simply gorgeous, and radiates such a vibrant aura that everyone is drawn to her. He honestly just finds it funny at this point. Nothing makes these men back off more effectively than her. Oh, the amount of times he bit back laughter watching the scene unfold from a distance. Seeing men crumble and disappear looking all ashamed, what a sight that is. And he doesn't have to do anything.
He wonders how many times she's had to fight off guys so far tonight, with him not even in the club, and he finds he can't wait to hear all her stories of the newest victims. Pierre never understood why Charles found it so amusing, he didn't seem to get it. The trust they have in each other. Knowing that it's him she'll come home to at the end of the night is enough to make him only feel entertained by each instance, and not irritated at the slightest bit.
But thinking about (y/n) fighting off men is only good enough entertainment for a limited amount of time, and soon the smile fades back into a miserable pout on his lips, as his thoughts turn back into ones of impatience, trying to make time move faster with short little prayers falling as mumbles from his lips.
With a sigh, he eventually sits up, looking around to find something he can do. At last he decides on grabbing a drink himself, maybe it will help stop the flow of thoughts racing in his head. A little welcomed dullness.
He takes a seat at the kitchen table, sipping on the liquid in his glass, enjoying the feeling of the light alcohol gently burning his throat on the way down, numbing his tongue along the way. His fingers stay restless, now drumming on the wooden surface. A few minutes later he realises they play a song, soundless except the soft thud of his fingertips with the occasional louder tap or little scratch of his nails when a finger finds a different angle to hit the table with.
A melody appears in his mind as he watches his fingers move, imagining how it would sound if it was his piano instead of the kitchen table. He would go sit at the beautiful, white instrument and try it, but he doesn't want to be so loud at such a late hour. And anyway, he's way too comfortable sitting where he is to stand up and go somewhere else.
He looks out the window, catching sight of the moon – almost full, just a tiny bit of it missing, and Charles examines the craters that are visible to the naked eye, though only as spots of a darker shade on the round shape.
Maybe he'll name this new musical piece that's being born in his head right now after her – well, if he ever finishes it. He'll keep the usual format, three letters of a city name and a date, only this time putting the time and place of when they first met. Or should it be the time and place of when he first asked her out? Or their first date? Or when she agreed to move in with him? God, there are way too many options to choose from. He decides to put this problem aside for now, he's not in a rush to name a song not even written yet.
As the clock on the oven changes all four numbers to display 2am, the action rouses his attention and makes him tear his eyes away from the moon and look at the numbers instead.
He would've never ever thought that he'd be like this.
Raising his glass he notices that there's only a small sip left in it, which he downs in a short moment. His tongue darts out to gather all the minuscule drops that might rest on his lips still, not wanting to waste even that much of the delicious drink. Then he stands up, placing the glass down into the sink, making a mental note to clean it in the morning before (y/n) wakes up.
Just as he ponders putting another movie on, maybe only as background noise if nothing else, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his pants. Taking his time, Charles pulls the device out, expecting nothing more than a useless notification from a social media app he shouldn't spend so much time on anyway.
Instead what he finds is a text. From her.
in a cab, be home soon &lt;3
Charles lets out a relieved sigh, his lips involuntarily curving into a smile, one that you could almost call giddy. It's not just the thought that she's going to be here soon, but the fact that she remembered to text him to let him know. He's in her mind, just like she's in his, even though she's been out with friends, having fun, drinking, while he's only been at home, all alone with his misery.
Now he can move back to bed happily, knowing that shortly she will join him.
It truly doesn't take long until Charles hears the front door creak as it opens, then the familiar jingle of her keys hitting the drawer in the hall, and his heart flutters with happiness. Finally. The high heels she chose to wear hit the floor with a soft thud as she presumably removes them, and the growing anticipation in his body seems to eat him whole.
Her steps grow louder and louder as she moves closer to the bedroom, and time slows for Charles. He watches in slow motion as she appears in the doorframe, being propped up on his elbows to have a better view, a lazy smile curling onto his face, and his eyes lidded with drowsiness.
"You're still awake?" (y/n) giggles, pausing in her steps for a second as her eyes take in the view he provides lying there. His lack of reply to her text made her think he's already fallen asleep.
"Of course," he mumbles. "Come to bed."
His voice is whiny and he behaves like an actual child, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants to sleep, and he wants to sleep beside her, feeling her warmth against his skin. That's the only way he can.
"Let me get changed first," she starts towards the closet, when a grunt of pure displeasure sounds from him along with the thump of his back as he falls into a lying position once more, making her glance back at her boyfriend. "What, can't wait a single minute?"
"No," he protests, pouting . "I've been waiting for hours."
His accent comes forth stronger when he's sleepy, and she can't help but smile adoringly upon hearing it. He's just so cute.
"Okay, fine, you'll get one kiss," she gives in. Charles resembles a lost puppy and she's sure he knows that's her weakness. She can't ever say no to anything when he looks like that.
So that's how she finds herself crawling into bed, trying to get as close as possible to the boy without causing damage to her dress. He grins, as much as his tired facial muscles allow, awaiting her lips touching his own. His pout becomes even more apparent, right until the moment he finally gets what he wants. His goodnight kiss. It's soft, slow and just so full of love it makes both their hearts flutter.
Then she caresses his cheek gently, whispering a barely audible good night, sleep tight to him, before moving back off the bed to disappear in the closet, leaving Charles to think about how he'd happily convince her again of going out if it means she'll come home to him, looking so radiant, properly buzzing with energy, eyes shining, hair messy but still looking so breathtaking. It's obvious how much it meant to her that she had this night out. He made her happy with telling her to go out with her friends, and he didn't regret it, despite all the miserable hours.
By the time she finishes her night routine and walks back into the bedroom once more, he's fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the room. She bites into her bottom lip to keep in the giggle threatening to burst out, and with a heart full of adoration and a head slightly dizzy from the drinks she's had, she gets in bed beside him, snuggling up close to him, revelling in the feeling of his arms instinctively finding their way around her body even when he's sleeping.
He truly only waited for her to come home and give him a goodnight kiss to finally be able to fall asleep.
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anadiasmount · 4 months
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Married life with Jude!!
headcannon for jude bc i’ve never done one! hope you enjoy! 🧟‍♀️🤍
masterlist | jude’s masterlist | send requests/ concepts!
would def introduce/call you as “wife” everywhere you go. doesn’t matter where you guys are headed he would so go “this is my wife y/n.” would make me feel so giddy i will not lie 😣😔
kiss your ring finger whenever he pleases, or when he notices you becoming nervous or anxious because he knows how much kisses with you mean. “relax darling, it’s us. me and you.”
have a random argument in the morning and jude being first to apologize bc he one, hates to see you upset bc of him, two due to the fact he hates when you’re not talking to him, and three bc he hates fighting especially with you. “forgive me okay? i didn’t mean it.”
would text you whenever either of you are out to check in, and starts the text with “wife…” or “husband” to remind to pick something up, or send a quick i love you text, to tell you about their days or something funny you guys saw, to say they miss each other. props if they send pictures instead of just texting.
on random occasions would pull out your wedding photos because it’s the most memorable and unforgettable night of his life. would explain to you how he felt in that moment and pull you his chest and tell you he loves you so much.
calls you “mrs. bellingham” to get your attention or walks into the room bc you and him love it. friends and family would make fun of you and you would shy away from it, but jude just smirks bc deep down it’s a reminder to everyone you’re married to him.
the two of you spending every morning together before he leaves for training or away games, having your daily tea/coffee with cookies/biscuits because you hate being apart even if it’s for just a little bit. “gonna miss you so much angel. wait for me so we can grocery shopping okay?”
LATE NIGHT TALKS BECAUSE WHATTT??? i have trouble sleeping at night and he would def stay up with you and you the same with him when you can’t sleep and just talk about kids, pets, friends and family, work, about the old times when you first got together.
brings you your favorite bouquet of flowers when he comes back from away duty, never getting over the fact that you’re married to him. kissing your forehead first and then leaning down to connect your lips together. “your favorite flowers, but you’re my favorite flower beautiful.”
annoys the shit out of you when he’s sick or clingy, begging for you to hold him and kiss his cheeks or temple because you apparently take the pain away. your hands massaging down his back and neck to smooth him, but sometimes he pretends just so he can feel you. “i need my wife to be with me in ‘sickness and in health’ remember?”
when back in england he loves doing date night at late night. takes you on walks after dinner and treats you to ice cream, buys you something to remember the night. his hand on your thigh in the car or around your waist when walking. “look so pretty for me. why are you so beautiful, wife?”
BYE IM SORRY BUT HES THE TYPE TO BUY SHIRTS THAT SAY “my wife” “his wife” and “my husband” “her husband” and force you go to public wearing them because he thinks it’s hilarious. “i’m sorry i can’t. i need a good laugh. please baby? do it for me?”
buys you small presents because he can’t stop spoiling you. “for you my wife. don’t start with that because i have every right to do anything to make you smile.”
would pull up to your work place when you least expect it and wait in your office/ designated area to eat lunch when he’s off. you would tell him all the gossip or topic of the day to reach, and he’s attentively listening because he loves hearing about the silliest thing that occur in your work place. everyone would just stare at the two of you in awe because you are the definition of couple goals.
when you attend his matches you would surprise him with a “his wife #5” jersey and he would smile wide and pull you close after the match ends. he would make fun of you at first but he loves the idea bc he know it’s a reminder to not him but the whole world. “my wife indeed. it’s gonna become my favorite jersey you’ve worn. gotta remind everyone who your husband is right?”
a relationship especially when married isn’t one sided, so the two of you always go above and beyond to make each other happy even if it’s the smallest word or action. squeeze in a cuddle even if it’s not appropriate timing. always communicating about how you to ensure the two of you are okay.
even the smallest glances you send when you’re not together, it’s glances like those that will never fail to put a smile on each others faces. like the of you would be the only humans alive.
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loveandmurders · 5 months
Text
You belong to Ambrose II (poly!Sinclairs x f!reader)
Hello everyone! First, I really want to thank you all for the love you gave to the first part of this story (that you can find here). 😍🥰
It made me so happy but also very anxious about this next part haha! I planned 3 parts in total (a fourth maybe, if you ask for it), and I do hope you'll enjoy this series as much as you did at first <3 <3
Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of stalking, kidnapping and murders, morally grey reader, reader getting angry, sad and feeling guilty, some strong words, dark!brothers, very brief mentions of sexual desire and activities
Lester was good at following people without them to notice him, even if there was no one else on the road. He knew the roads by heart and his hearing was sharp, so he could guess where a car was without being right behind it. He actually parked near the forest and simply closed his eyes to guess which roads you were taking. He guessed you were at the campsite; a lot of tourists stayed there too. You were making things very easy for him and he thanked his luck. When everything seemed quiet again, he walked through the woods, just to make sure he was right and indeed, he found you sat with your people. You were five in total, but you all looked too gentle and soft to really be a problem for him and his brothers. He watched you, hidden behind a tree. His heart was clenching at the sight of you laughing. Even if it wasn’t with him, just hearing this beautiful sound once again was making him thrilled. He couldn’t wait for his hands to roam your body like they used to either.
He let you eat with your friends and he let you fall asleep under the bright sky full of stars. He saw you chatting a little while with one of the boys of the group and he had to admit he really didn’t like it. He didn’t know if he was your boyfriend or not, but he was definitively jealous. And he would need to talk about it to the twins so they could get rid of the man. Actually, he wanted everyone dead as quickly as possible, because you didn't belong to any of them.
He texted the location to his brothers.
Soon enough, the three men were towering over your group, their whole being finally calming down: you were back in their life and they weren’t going to let you go anymore. They couldn’t believe you were finally there and they didn’t attack your group right away. They wanted to enjoy the calmness written all over your face first. They always thought you were looking like an angel when you were sleeping. Vincent tried to memorise the scene so he could draw your sleeping form under the moon. Bo almost smiled, so relieved you hadn’t disappeared forever. Lester was the only one growing impatient. The twins knew things weren’t going to be too pretty after they kidnapped your group and they didn’t want that. They wanted to go straight to the moment where you would allow them to show you tenderness and to pleasure you. It was going to be so much work, so they wanted to enjoy the peace of the moment.
If only you had never left them; things would have been so much better.
If only you hadn’t decided to camp so close to Ambrose, you would have been safe.
Deep down, you knew you should have asked your friends to drive away as far away as possible, but you didn’t.
Because you didn’t want your friends to worry about anything and to ruin the nice mood.
Because you knew it was useless; the Sinclairs were hunters and they never let go of their prey until they had it.
Because you wanted the brothers to force you back into their lives, even though you would rather die than admit it.
You knew it was over when you woke up, in the middle of the night, feeling watched. You also heard quiet footsteps all over your group. You could have grabbed the little knife you had in your bag, or you could have screamed to wake up everyone, but you didn’t. You simply waited. You didn’t want the Sinclairs to have to hurt your friends or yourself. Maybe especially yourself.
You still jumped when you felt a hand over your mouth and you looked up. You recognised Bo’s touch on you and tried your best to not start crying out of fear. The man shushed you into your ear, before he took into your delicious scent.
“Shh, sweetheart, won’t hurt ya, 'kay? No need to make things difficult” he whispered to you and you nodded which made him smile “Atta girl” he praised you.
It was then you noticed two shadows moving over your friends. You weren’t too sure what they were going to do to them. You started to panic and tried to get away from Bo’s touch. “We won’t kill them. Yet. We’re just druggin’ them so we can brin’ them to Ambrose with us” Bo explained to you. You calmed down but you still shook your head at that. “I know ya want them all safe and sound, but we can’t let them go to the police, so they come” Bo replied and you heard the venom in his voice. He couldn’t hide the jealousy and the rage of his girl loving other people than him and his brothers “Time to go back to sleep, princess” he mused and you tried to fight as he pressed a tissue over your face.
You didn’t struggle for long before everything went dark.
When you opened your eyes again, you felt like you were back years ago. You were laying down in the guest room in the Sinclairs' house; a guest room that was actually yours because Trudy insisted for you to leave your belongings there, as it was your second house. It wasn’t like the Sinclairs were inviting anyone else at home anyways (or that anyone wanted to sleep in their house either). Your parents weren’t too happy about it, but you often slept there. The room was still the same with its pinkish walls and the cream furniture. Drawings were on the walls. You almost wondered if you were going to be late for school before you realised what truly happened. 
The Sinclairs kidnapped you and your friends. 
You tried to sit up but you realised one of your hands was cuffed to the bed frame. You cursed and tried to get your hand free until you heard footsteps in the corridor. You stopped breathing, waiting for someone to enter the room. Your heart was hammering inside your chest. You wanted to believe it was all a nightmare, and that you were going to wake up soon.
Bo cracked the door open and smiled when he noticed you were awake.
“Hello, doll,” he hummed as he entered the room.
You finally could have a good look at him and you had to admit he became as handsome as you thought he would be. You looked away, afraid of what was going to happen to you, afraid of him. Your whole body was tense and you cursed yourself for having tempted the devil like your mother asked you not to. You had been so so stupid.
Bo walked to you before cupping your face to force you to look at him. He had lost his smile. His thumb gently stroked your cheek. You tried very hard to not start crying. Or to not lean into his touch. His skin felt so warm against yours.
“Please, Bo. Let us go” you whispered. You noticed that the man’s jaw tightened. It was clearly not the first words he wanted to hear from you after all this time.
“Trust me, no one’s leavin’ no more” he harshly replied and tears fell down your cheeks. It calmed him down “Ah baby” he shushed as he knelt beside you to kiss your tears away. You hated how much you loved to feel his lips on your skin once again. “Ya’re meant to be a Sinclair, ‘s fate bringin’ ya where ya belong. And we’re all gonna take an extra good care of ya for all the years we had to go through without ya” he continued as he leaned his forehead against yours.
“You want me, keep me and let everyone else go, please. They have nothing to do with this.” you begged again. Bo sighted.
“Ya shouldn’t’ve left Ambrose, doll. Now ya have to pay the price for it” he simply shrugged and got up. “Gonna bring ya some breakfast, baby, I’ll be back” he added and left the room.
You cried even more, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reason with the Sinclairs. You hoped your people were still alive so you could help them to escape, even if it meant you would stay at Ambrose forever.
You were tugging on the handcuff again when you heard the door being opened a second time. You looked up to see Vincent watching you from the entrance. He looked like the shy boy you met the first time. You swallowed hard. You wanted to ask him what he did with your friends but you realised you were too afraid of the answer, so you stayed silent. Vincent finally moved closer to you and knelt in front of the bed. His fingers gently traced your face, as to memorise the change in your features since last time he saw you. You let him do it and closed your eyes. He removed the tears with a sad pout concealed behind his mask. You could pretend you were still a teenager, and Vincent was quietly flirting with you through tender touches.
You opened your eyes again when you felt the masked twin grab your free hand. He removed enough of his mask to press your palm against his scarred skin. You could have stayed immobile, but you didn’t. You gently stroked his cheek and he hummed in approval, his eye closed in well being. It felt so good to finally get your touch back.
“Hi, Vinny” you whispered and he looked up at you with the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He kissed your hand. “Not gonna hurt me, right?” you asked, just to make sure. The man instantly shook his head. “Not gonna turn me into a wax statue either?” you added with a bite of your lips. Same answer. Relief flooded through you.
Forever love you. Missed you so badly. He slowly signed to you, as he wasn’t certain you still remembered ASL, but you did.
You didn’t have time to answer before Bo entered the room with a trail of food. It smelt good; you could already recognise his signature pancakes. Vincent stood up as Bo put the trail on the nightstand.
“Gonna untie ya, but nothin’ stupid, girl” he warned you and you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. You weren’t too sure how you could be any more stupid than you already had been. What were you thinking when you decided to bring your friends so close to Ambrose? You wondered if deep down you hadn’t wanted this. “Y/N” Bo groaned and you simply tug on the handcuff. “Hey, don’t hurt yourself now!” Bo exclaimed as his hand flew on your wrist and you stopped tugging.
“Untie me then” you replied and Bo let escape a little smirk
“Ah yes, ya’re so hot when ya’re all bossy, ain’t ya?” he teased as he removed the handcuff from your wrist. You didn’t reply because you refused to acknowledge him flirting with you, like he used to. You massaged your wrist as you sat up. 
Knowing they weren’t going to hurt or kill you, appeased you a little and you thanked Bo for the food. You actually ate it with appetite, even though the twins’ stares were making you feel uncomfortable. They both sat, on a chair or on a desk, staying silent. They shared looks from time to time, but you tried your best to not mind them.
“Are they dead already?” you suddenly asked, because you needed to know
“Who?” Bo asked back, feigning innocence
“My friends” you groaned, your stomach twisted in worry. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten before asking this question, you thought.
“No idea who ya’re talkin’ ‘bout” Bo shrugged.
You had a very bad feeling. You turned your attention toward Vincent, who tried to look away from you.
"Vincent." you simply said "Are they dead?"
Vincent hesitated about what to say. In the end, he slowly nodded at you. 
You got up and threw the plate on the wall in one swift and yet brutal movement. The porcelain broke as you started to angrily scream at them.
“Fuck! Fuck you all!” you cried out as both the twins got up. Bo tried to sit you back on the bed but you shoved him to the side. You grabbed Vincent by the shoulders “I swear to God, Vincent, if you fucking turned them into wax statues, I’m gonna burn down your cherished House of Wax to the fucking ground!!” you yelled even more.
Vincent’s eye widened and he thought about the four bodies he had already prepared to turn into statues. He quickly nodded though. He had no desire in upsetting you even more. And god forbid the twins to think how hot and attractive you were when you were so angry… If only you weren’t mad at them.
“How ‘bout ya calm down?” Bo grumbled but it only angered you more
“That I calm down? That I fucking calm down? You killed my people!! And then you wonder why I left Ambrose and never came to you all?” you screamed. Your words hurt Bo a lot more than he could admit so his own anger rose inside his chest
“Oh yeah? Well it’s funny ‘cause I ain’t rememberin’ ya carin’ that much about the killin’ before! Ya knew what mother and father were doin’ and it didn’t stop ya from livin’ with us most of your time!” Bo argued back
“It was different, it was your parents! I thought we could all live away from this mess, but no, you both decided the mess was worth it!” you continued
“It was the only life for us, and ya know it!” Bo replied as he gestured at Vincent who looked down
“You scared me off Ambrose” you cried out
“But now ya’re back and ya’re never fuckin’ leavin’ ever again! Ya’re ours, don’t ya know it, Y/N? Ya gave us everythin’ and we gave ya our souls in exchange! Didn’t ya enjoy flirtin’, kissin’ and havin’ sex with us? Or maybe ya were just a whore” Bo replied and you slapped him. 
You didn’t even realise what you did, you just did it. Bo pushed you on the bed and Vincent quickly stopped his twin from coming closer to you. But you weren’t afraid. You couldn’t be afraid of the people you truly had loved the most in your existence, and who had always been eager to do anything for you.
It was why the brothers loved you with such fierce passion; you had the strength to call them out on their bullshit and to make them obey. They were wrapped around your little finger, but it came with a cost: they would burn the whole world down if it meant keeping you theirs.
“Is that what you think of me? Great, Beauregard! But it can’t hurt me more than what you just did to my friends! And then you dare tell me you love me?” you said as you sent a glance at Vincent who felt like you pierced his heart with a dagger “It ain’t love, that might be why I ran away from you all! I shouldn’t’ve come back to the South of the country. Stupid fucking bad luck!”
Bo was about to reply to this, even though Vincent was trying to calm him down, but the door opened again. You saw Lester entering the room with a worried expression written all over his face. Things were really not going the way it was supposed to, he thought. He had heard you arguing with Bo from downstairs and he hoped he could put everyone back in a good mood.
But you couldn’t even stand looking at him after what happened. You got up once again and pushed the twins away from you.
“You know what, get all the fuck out of my room!” you yelled and you continued to push them toward the door. Once they were all out, you slammed the door shut and fell on your knees as you silently started to cry.
--
Taglist : @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21 ; @thatbitchanna27 ; @robin-the-enby ; @i-like-horror-andshitt ; @cecilwritesstuff ; @delusion-is-convenient ; @artificialintestines ; @sugarrush-blush ; @crypticlxrsh ; @g0thl3zz ; @katerinaval ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @limehaspassed ; @sillylittlereader ; @mommymilkerfanclub ; @oranedgp ; @mottysith ; @partlyvee ; @gorewhore123 ; @mrstargayen09 ; @aesthetic-bitches-tum ; @mfnqueen1 ; @etheralrue ; @nanami-kento-simp ; @bluekuu ; @excusemyrandomramblings ; @fluffy-little-demon ; @oneofvincentscandles ; @domoron ; @narcolepticduck
(I really hope I didn't forget anyone! <3)
--
PART III
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fun-k-board · 7 months
Note
Hey again 😄😄😄
Thank you so so much for the smoke headcanon I really enjoyed it, I was wondering if you could do it again but this time with reptile please ??
Syzoth / Reptile Friendship / General Headcanons
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Note(s) : You're a regular human and not a champion, it's implied you're friends with the human kharacters and meet Reptile through them.
Reptile is extremely anxious around you at first because you're not a champion, you're just an Earthrealmer with no fighting skills or prior knowledge on Outworld, and he finds himself a little confused on your presence most of the time.
As such, he finds himself explaining to you a lot of things that he would believe are just common sense. He doesn't get annoyed though, because he realises his constant questions on regular human ideas must be strange too.
He's still a Zatteran despite his ability to shapeshift into a human form, and so, any human social cues you've mastered will probably be strange to him, and vice versa.
Syzoth will typically eat bugs like cockroaches, spiders, flies, and forgets that some human cultures don't have that normalised, but he's extremely overjoyed when he finds out that certain places consider bugs a delicacy. He basically begs you to take him to those places.
If Johnny invites you to be in a movie, whether acting or stage hand, Syzoth, and by extension a large chunk of the Kast, will a million percent also be there after being coincidentally, also invited by Johnny! He's interested in Earth culture, and after watching Predator, which scared the daylights out of him, he wants to know the process behind movies.
Hundred percent asks to see movies with you, apart from horrors, never show him a horror movie, he will not be able to sleep for weeks.
Movie nights are incredibly common, a lot of other non Earthrealmers join in as well! It becomes very cramped very fast in your house, let's hope Johnny is nice enough to lend you all his mansion for the night.
He's a big fan of superhero media, there's always an invisible person, although he finds the fact a lot of them have to strip incredibly strange, or some type of half human half animal hybrid, he feels at home a lot of the time watching those types of superheros.
He can't stomach human food, so if he ever stays at yours for a sleepover or just to hang out for a day, he'll be an exterminator for you and eat any bugs he can find as his lunch / dinner. It's very helpful during summer.
Speaking of summer, he always wears his usual attire even in unbearable heat, he's uncomfortable with his human form and he feels awkward to show more of it. Besides, he likes to keep warm because he gets cold too easily, and when he's cold he gets slower which is impractical and annoying.
After the death of his wife and children, he's been looking for a distraction, he needs some form of comfort and he feels talking to you and his other friends is a huge help. Especially if you've experienced a close loss before, even if you don't know ways to help cope, you can always find ways to help each other heal together.
He tries to ask you for dating advice with Ashra, this most likely goes over well no matter how horrible your advice is, because Ashra and Syzoth are the best couple and are so wholesome nothing could offend either.
Syzoth is always awkward around dinners, whenever he's invited to Madam Bo's by one of the Kast of you, he sort of just sits around and tries to talk instead of eat. Reptiles learned after a while that it's impolite to humans when you just eat bugs out of the air, which he doesn't understand, and so refrains from eating at most public dinners.
He really wants to bring you to Zattera, but he knows far too well that they don't take kindly to warm blood, and while he understands his people's reason, he's still disappointed.
Luckily! He can visit your home in Earthrealm.
He does unfortunately get a lot of stares when he visits your home, your family and even strangers on the street always assume he's a cosplayer.
After he gets roles for a few of Johnny's movies, he becomes a micro celebrity of some sorts, including you if you decide to star in them. People recognise him on the streets and he gets rather embarrassed, but also very appreciated, he feels a lot of love around fans.
Apart from the weird ones... He tries to tell people that he's taken, with a wonderful girlfriend who'd he'd never betray, but... He needs you to chase them off a lot.
I imagine at first, your family and friends might think he's really weird, like, not even 'wow that was strange' weird, but 'never invite this man to be close to my vicinity again' type weird.
He's always looking around suspiciously, eyes wide, sweaty, sometimes he looks like he's going to speak but then holds a hand over his mouth, always when there's a fly near...
But, it only takes a day of knowing him for them to switch up and genuinely adore him.
They invite him around all the time, he's sweating buckets and terrified of messing up, but they're so taken aback by how goddamn sweet this guy is they don't notice.
Once again, you become his saviour and help him whenever they get too talkative about where he's from. They don't know about Outworld, and Liu Kang would prefer it if you didn't spill to everybody.
He finds human fashion a bit strange, but he actually really likes hoodies, especially the ones with short sleeves, they feel comfortable and he can move around a lot without it being a hassle of detangling and annoyance. He also likes wearing fingerless gloves everywhere.
Introducing him to Earthrealm music is... Interesting, to say the least. He really enjoys a lot of them! Especially classical, they're closer to what he knows from Outworld, but, he's also surprised at how much he likes a lot of modern music.
I'm spreading my Britney Spears fan Syzoth agenda and you can't stop me.
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anashins · 3 months
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Perhaps a Jaehyun fic where you’re either on your thesis or work and are pulling all nighters to meet your deadlines and avoid telling him cos you know he gets mad (even though idol Jaehyun does it too) so when he finds out (it could be bc you either passed out from exhaustion and maybe we get a hospital scene or since you hadn’t slept it slipped out of you? English is not my first language and I’m currently sleep deprived bc of my thesis work so sorry for any grammatical error 😭) he forces u to go to sleep but it’s really cute cos he’s also tired and you get some rest together
Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: fluff, romance
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: While being in the hospital, you find out Jaehyun can braid hair. Every day, you learn something new about this man.
A/N: I tried to combine all of them! I hope you like it - and good luck on your thesis, you can do it 🤍🤍🤍
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“I have to write my thesis!”, was your first thought upon waking up. 
But the ceiling you were staring at didn’t look like your ceiling at home, you couldn’t recognize the color of the walls, and the sparse furniture didn’t belong in your room either.
What looked familiar to you though, as your gaze wandered further, was a figure next to you, sitting by the bedside. The dark hair, the worried expression, the warm hand holding your limp one… that was your boyfriend, giving you comfort in a cold room that seemed like it was located in a hospital.
“You’re awake!” Jaehyun exclaimed.
Realization of your last night at home seeped in. You hadn’t eaten or drunk something in… you couldn’t remember. You wanted it to be two days since your last meal and rest, but your admission into the hospital, arm physically attached to an infusion, indicated otherwise. 
“What happened?” you asked groggily.
Jaehyun took a cup with a straw from the nightstand and led it to your mouth. “How do you feel?”
“Tired somehow,” you sighed, opening your mouth. The water tasted unexpectedly delicious, just what you had needed. “And anxious.”
“I found you last night, passed out on the floor,” your boyfriend explained and put the cup back on the nightstand, then seated himself next to you onto the mattress. “You seemed like you hadn’t eaten anything in days let alone slept for more than two hours a night, so I brought you here directly. I was so worried.”
He had dark circles under his eyes, seemingly not having slept this entire time either, ever since he had brought you here. “Jaehyun…” 
You reached out to him and touched the side of his face. He smiled meekly. “I’m just so relieved you’re better now. I was so afraid when I saw you there, unmoving in your room. I didn’t know what to do, I thought I lost you.”
“I’m sorry.” Your hand dropped and covered the back of his that he had rested on your thigh. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, forgot to eat and there is still so much to do. I actually don’t have time to rest, I have to hand in my thesis in a week.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Jaehyun chided. “It’s only morning and the doctor will check up on you this evening before he can discharge you. Until then, you’re going to rest.”
“But-” you were about to retort, but he cut you off immediately.
“No buts. You’re not going to work on your thesis now or even think about it. And when you return home this evening, I will move in with you for this week.”
You blinked in confusion. “What?”
“I will cook for you, make sure you’re always healthy and hydrated and get enough sleep. This is not going to happen again, I’ll make sure of that. Let me take care of you when you can’t.”
You had already opened your mouth, but Jaehyun sounded so determined that you didn’t want to disagree with him. Apart from this, it sounded nice to have someone taking care of you when you weren’t able to.
“Okay.”
Living with him for an entire week until you finished your thesis didn’t sound so bad either. Very tempting even, truth to be told.
Your boyfriend then placed a bag next to you. “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s not your university materials.” Instead, he pulled out wired headphones, your favorite fantasy book, eye patches and a hairbrush. “We are going to do some selfcare while you’re here.”
You let Jaehyun put the eye patches on your face, the coolness directly having an effect on your tired skin. Then, he offered, “Here, let me brush your hair. I know you always take good care of it.”
You shifted to the side and pulled your hair back over your shoulder. Jaehyun let the brush slide over your strands, but some had already gotten light knots overnight. He took care of them by holding your hair close to the roots and detangling the ends carefully, so that they fell softly over your neck again. 
Meanwhile, you took the book into your hands and began reading out to your boyfriend. You always talked about this book and had probably read it eight times already, but you never got enough of it, and Jaehyun had always been patient to listen to your opinions and rants, even if he had heard time a thousand times already.
“Should I braid your hair?” he then asked after he had finished brushing. “So while you’re lying down, it’s not gonna tangle again, otherwise I will spend the entire day combing your hair.”
You tilted your head. “You know how to braid?”
“Yeah, thanks to my little cousins.” You then felt his fingers sectioning your hair into three parts. “It’s not gonna be a fancy french braid, but I’ll give it my best. I even brought a hair tie.” Every day, you learned something new about this man. “Now, continue reading. I want to know whether Feyre will pass the second trial.”
He knew the answer to it. He knew the ending of the book and the entire series already, because you talked about it so often, but he also knew how much you loved doing so, which was why he always acted so clueless and let you speak your opinion.
You loved this man so much.
So you continued reading out to Jaehyun while he gently braided your hair. You felt the tips of the strands brushing over your neck and shoulders, laying on your back and swirling around. It took your boyfriend three attempts for the perfect beginning and he sometimes stopped halfway through to open the braid again, because he wasn’t satisfied. One time, he had even reached the end already, but then let out a sigh, seemingly dissatisfied with his work, and started all over again.
He was so focused, breathing regularly with much concentration, so that you weren’t sure whether he was actually still listening to you. But you didn’t care and instead enjoyed this chaste moment between you two.
“Finished,” Jaehyun then declared and put on the pink scrunchie to fix the braid’s end. 
You tenderly touched the tips below the scrunchie. “There is no mirror, but I feel pretty.”
“That’s because you are.”
Jaehyun kissed your cheek and then removed the eye patches from your face. 
“Come here.” You closed the book, placed it on the nightstand and took the wired headphones before shifting to the far end of the small hospital bed. “Lie down.”
“I’m so tall and the bed is so small, you won’t have enough space. It’s fine.”
“Don’t worry, it will work. Come here.”
You let your boyfriend lie down next to you and rested your head on his chest. One earphone, you put on yourself and gave the other to Jaehyun who then linked it to his phone and started playing music. 
You then lied there together, not talking, just listening to his favorite songs and enjoying each other’s company.
Not much later, you heard Jaehyun snoring lightly, and smiled. He had taken care of you the entire night, he deserved this rest, and so you let him.
Yes, it was nice having someone taking care of you when you couldn’t take care of yourself. You would make sure to always do the same for him when you were able to.
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