#I miss waking up to comments and things sitting in my inbox :< | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maidragoste · 4 months

Text

I always knew you would come

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

another part of Daemon's Wife au

Summary: You think your husband is going to be angry with you for going to the Stepstones but he surprises you.

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated. comments always motivate me to continue writing 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have ideas or thoughts for this series you are welcome to share them in my inbox

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

You paced back and forth inside Daemon's tent as you waited for him to arrive. You were ready to argue with him. You had plenty of anger after listening to the scolding of your father, your uncle, and the concern of your brother, you had deludedly hoped that they would be happier to see you. You wouldn't care what they or your husband told you, you wouldn't come home. You were determined to stay on the Stepstones until the war was over. You couldn't sit idly by for another year in Driftmark and wait for your family to return.

You stopped as soon as you saw Daemon enter. You felt your heart speed up. The first thing you noticed was that he now had his hair a little shorter. You hadn't seen your husband for almost three years. There wasn't a day that you hadn't missed him. You always looked forward to his letters and you hoped that one day one of them would tell you that the war was over but that letter never arrived so you decided to act. You hoped that with your dragon you could be of help because at this rate you doubted that King Viserys would deign to help with anything.

You expected Daemon to yell at you about what the hell you were doing here and that you should be home taking care of your son, like your father had, but to your surprise he strode towards you and pulled you close to him as he smashed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes feeling how all the tension and frustration you felt minutes before disappeared before the warmth of his lips. You kissed him with the same devotion hoping he could feel how much you love him. Your husband's hands left your waist and you were about to complain at the loss of his touch when you felt his hands caressing your hair, he caressed it so softly and with so much affection that for a moment it made you want to cry. You had been deprived of this. You had missed him so much. You wanted it all to be over so he could bring you and Baelon home again.

"How is Baelon?" Daemon asked, breaking the kiss but still stroking your hair. He had spent nights dreaming about you, dreaming about the baby you told him in letters that looked like him, dreaming about waking up next to you and admiring your beauty while caressing your hair, like he used to do before he left for the war.

You were supposed to go to Stepstones with him but then you two found out you were pregnant then you stayed in Driftmark with your mother. Daemon could not accompany you during the pregnancy or be at the birth of his child. But you still decided together on your baby's name by correspondence. At first, you weren't sure about naming him Baelon because you were afraid that Viserys and Rhaenyra would be upset with you for naming your baby after the son and brother they both lost that caused Queen Aemma's death, but your husband told you that he only wanted to name him Baelon in honor his father and you couldn't refuse.

Daemon was also unable to witness how his son grew up, he missed his first steps, his first words, and his name days. Even though he had never met him, he cared about his son.

"He's fine. “He drives me and mom crazy because he doesn't stop running,” you responded with a smile. The affection in your voice was evident and I could see the love in your eyes. “He's obsessed with his dragon like you” you mocked earning a small pinch on your waist and making you let out a small snort “If I don't let him see his dragon before going to sleep he gets in a bad mood” Now he could hear the pride in your voice, evidently his son was not having a hard time bonding with his dragon.

“Definitely a Targaryen,” Daemon said, also feeling proud like you. He wanted to see with his own eyes how his son bonded with his dragon and teach how to care for him, he wanted to be there for Baelon.

“Prince Daemon, they are waiting for you,” a man's voice was heard outside the tent.

“I'll be there in a few minutes,” he responded and it didn't take long for you to hear the man's footsteps walking away. “Come on, we have a war to plan,” he said after giving you one last kiss.

“Do you want me to go to the war council with you?” you asked, clearly surprised.

“Of course, you came to fight with us right?” the prince said without understanding your reaction, gently taking your arm to prevent you from walking away.

"Yes, I came to fight" you responded instantly but you were still confused that he would accept your participation on the battlefield so quickly. "So, you're not upset and you're not going to send me back home to Baelon? You're going to let me fight?"

"I'm sure you once told me that you don't need my permission to do anything," your husband reminded you, arching an eyebrow, still not understanding what you were getting at with this.

"It's true," you said, feeling confident again. "And I'm glad you're clear about that, it's just that I was ready to argue with you. I thought you would tell me the same nonsense that my father and my uncles told me, that I shouldn't be here, that Now I'm a mother so I should go home and take care of Baelon, that's what a good mother would do, that I shouldn't fight, that they don't need my help or Nightwing, that Caraxes and Seasmoke were enough" when you started talking about your family You looked like you were spitting poison.

Daemon frowned, noticing that behind your anger was also pain. He felt furious that someone dared to tell you that you were a bad mother. The worst thing was that it was your own family. He wanted to cut out their tongues but he knew that despite your anger with your family you would never want them to suffer any kind of harm.

"They are idiots for refusing your help, for thinking that you would listen to them and return to Dirftmark without hesitation," he declared. "I'm sure you fight better than some of your father's bannermen and would make them cry on the battlefield," he said. making you smile. You knew he wasn't lying to you just to make you feel better. Daemon was not that kind of person. He didn't give fake compliments and besides every time the two of you faced each other he had never been afraid to be harsh with you "I always knew you would come sooner or later. I know you and I know that you can stand to sit around doing nothing, the birth of Baelon wouldn't going to change that. Besides, it's not like you left our son alone and helpless, you left him with your mother. Don't let those idiots get into your head, you're a good mother" he emphasized the last words, wanting you not to have any doubt about what he thought.

"I'm glad I married you," you said without any shame, happiness lit up your eyes and your smile was warm.

Neither of them knew who was the first to bring their faces closer to the other but it didn't matter because their lips met again. Daemon kissed you as if it were a necessity as if you were the air he needed to breathe and you loved it. You want to stay in his tent and satisfy the insatiable hunger you feel for him. But you can't, there are already people against you staying and if Daemon missed the war council then they would blame you. You would just give them one more reason to keep insisting that you come home.

"Come on, we have a war to plan," you said breaking the kiss and tucking a loose strand of hair behind Daemon's ear.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85

@rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie

@partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @thelastemzy @labellapeaky

For some reason tumblr won't let me tag them: @Snileykiddie08 @Bugheadskid @lauufeysonnn @sabi127 @cicaspair418 @sydneyyyya @Thanya-Targaryen @Sakuramochi1921 @marytargaryen @targaryenmoony @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @salmonella22 @Illzarr

If you want to be part of my taglist

hotd masterlist

769 notes · View notes

everlastlady · 7 months

Text

Boyfriend Miguel O 'Hara.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

✰ author's note: Hello my starlights~ Decided to write this and get it out of my system before I start getting to request in my box because there are 11 request. So I hope that you enjoy this boyfriend Miguel story that I wrote instead of sleeping if you want husband Miguel then just let me know or drop it in my inbox with any ideas that you have. If you loved this cute short story then please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging. Remember to always support your local community writers or writers in general. Also don't forget to eat, drink water, take your medicine, and that you are loved.

✰ word count: 874.

✰ story contains: Gender neutral reader, mentions of sexual pleasure, romantic Miguel, and overall romance.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Boyfriend Miguel who doesn’t talk about his relationship with you to everyone at the spider society because he still wants to be seen as a serious and intimidating boss. But once he goes home, he loves to shower in affection. He’ll bury his face into the crook of your neck and inhale the scent of you because he missed you so much. He’ll want to hear about your day while he makes the two of you dinner. He’ll rub your feet from when you had an exhausting day. He’ll listen to you vent about your boss and annoying co-workers. Miguel doesn’t mind taking pictures with you. He’ll even get some pictures or videos of you. When he’s at the society he makes sure that no one is around so he can look at them. Boyfriend Miguel who spoils you by getting you anything you want. He wants you to quit your job so that he can take care of you. He's a man with a lot of money so there is no reason to work. But you don’t mind your job sometimes and you like having your own money. Miguel respects your choice but still spoils you. Boyfriend Miguel who finds it adorable when you wear his shirts, sweatpants, or boxers. Boyfriend Miguel who loves you no matter what size you are and will go at anyone who shames you for your body shape and size, he thinks you are beautiful no matter what scars or marks you have on your skin. Boyfriend Miguel who takes a break from being Spiderman so he can spend time with you and take you on trips. Boyfriend Miguel who cuddles you in bed wanting to feel close to you. If you wake up before him, you aren’t getting out of bed unless you have to pee.

Boyfriend Miguel who eventually introduced you to the spider society. Jess wonders how someone small and sweet as you could date Miguel but she is happy for you both. Peter loves the videos and pictures that you showed him of Miguel and you. You even agreed to watch Mayday which is a blast because now you have something to do when Miguel is busy. Boyfriend Miguel who whenever you both get into an argument, he’ll buy you a rose after every argument and apologize. Now if you are in the wrong and apologize, Miguel will forgive you and kiss your head. Boyfriend Miguel who’s favorite thing to do with you is dance and cook. He loves the way you both dance together, he doesn’t care if you don’t know how to dance he has fun either way. Boyfriend Miguel who lets you cry it out on him and vent. He lets you know your feelings are valid and he’s here to listen. Boyfriend Miguel who let you try his digital suit once and one look he was already on you. Boyfriend Miguel who sometimes wears his glasses but you remind him to use them when he’s at home looking at screens all day, he doesn’t like them but you tell him that he looks handsome. Boyfriend Miguel who lets you touch his fangs he just sits there with his mouth open but after his jaw gets tired he’ll set you aside. He also lets you know that his fangs are venomous so he doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself. Boyfriend Miguel who originally met you at your workplace and was flustered with how you talked with him. Miguel who asked you out on a date when coming into your workplace, Miguel who took you to a restaurant.

Miguel who asked you out on the 6th date. Boyfriend Miguel who takes you to that same restaurant on your anniversary and then goes on a walk with you in the park underneath the stars. Boyfriend Miguel who scolds you and Lyla for pulling pranks on him. Boyfriend Miguel who gets a bit jealous whenever you give Lyla more attention then him. Boyfriend Miguel who is like a walking heater when it’s a cold day Miguel will be sure to keep you warm especially in different ways~ Boyfriend Miguel who appreciates when you place a blanket over him when he falls asleep from working, when you help into bed, or when you bring him food and water. Miguel appreciates everything you do for him even when you tell him to slow down and take breaks. Boyfriend Miguel who loves to pick you up and carry you around the house while he yells loudly how he has the best partner in the damn world. Boyfriend Miguel who loves to take you shopping and likes to see what outfits you try on. Boyfriend Miguel who deals with your plushie collection but sometimes wants to cuddle with you in bed but you're busy cuddling your favorite plushie. Boyfriend Miguel who lets you pack his lunch because when you did the first time, he found it adorable and now looks forward to whatever lunch you made for him. And finally Boyfriend Miguel who gets down on one knee to propose to you in his spider suit on a rooftop where the stars and city lights look beautiful, he is no longer boyfriend Miguel but now Husband Miguel.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

📖Taglist/Miguel's Simps: @sukioyakio @quechulitaaa @miguelcvmslvt @homewreckingwreck @tayleighuh @lauraolar14

If you want to be added to the Miguel tag list or removed just let me know.

#miguel fanfic #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x gn reader #everlasting writes🪻

526 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 10 months

Note

pleaseee, a part 2 to ‘ you don’t want to know me ‘

i love jamie tartt so much and hurt / comfort is just my fave kind of writing <3

Got a rude interesting comment in my inbox about my content. It’s kind of a bummer how one that isn’t nice attempts to overshadow all the love that people give. I’m glad people enjoy my writing, but ultimately I write it for myself. Requests are super awesome because it helps me grow as a writer, but I do only write the things that I want to. And I think that’s ok. I’m happy that there are a lot of people who like to read the things I like to write, and I understand those that don’t. You don’t have to be unkind about it.

Anyway, thank you @jellycolors for this ask! Y’all really do like a pt. 2 morning after fic, don’t you?😂

never wanted you to hate me

The sun is at the perfect angle to shoot a beam directly into your eyes, waking you up at exactly 7:32am, twenty-eight minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off. It’s Sunday, which is stupid, because you’re supposed to sleep in. Instead, you’re awake in bed, with your blankets feeling warmer and heavier than usual. You blink your eyes open to Jamie Tartt, shirtless and on top of you, fast asleep. You’re pretty much pinned under him, unable (or unwilling) to move him off.

You wonder how long you should let Jamie sleep, and what he’s going to think when he wakes up like this. You’re sure this is a far cry from his usual mornings, usually with some model or something wrapped around him. You think since he’s the one holding you, it’s probably fine.

Jamie doesn’t wake up until your alarm goes off and when it does, he startles and almost rolls off the bed. You laugh at his look of utter confusion, as it takes him a moment to figure out where he is.

“You alright?” you ask, still grinning. Jamie, however, is not.

“Yeah,” he replies shortly. “Gonna get my things and get the fuck out of here.” He stalks out your bedroom without another word.

The way he’s acting is a far cry from the Jamie who asked you to sit on the bathroom sink last night so he wouldn’t be alone. In fact, it’s closer to the prickish version of himself that comes out on the pitch. You don’t like that he’s being that way with you, so you follow him to your living room.

“What the fuck was that?” you say to Jamie’s back as he bends down to get his jacket off the couch.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he replies, still not turning around.

You cross your arms. “You come here all- all sad and shit, fall asleep in my bed, tell me you fucking love me, and now you’re just leaving? What the fuck?”

Jamie stills. “I was just tired. Didn’t know what I was saying.”

That’s a lie, and you’re not going to let him get away with it.

You make your voice as steely as possible. “Jamie Tartt, if you think I’m fucking stupid as to think that I wouldn’t know you’re lying, then you might as well just go.”

Jamie turns to face you, and he looks a little wild. “Don’t think that just because we’ve known each other for thirteen years, that you fucking know me. Leave me the fuck alone.”

You squint at him. He’s wrong again. You do fucking know him. You know him so well that you understand exactly why he’s reacting this way. He hates being vulnerable in front of anyone, so now he’s trying to cut and run, pushing away one of the last people who actually cares about him.

Jamie’s still standing by the couch, clutching his Man City jacket, knuckles white. He’s still shirtless, breathing hard and waiting for you to fire back. You don’t.

Instead you say, so softly, “You know I never talk about you, right? Not gonna fuck off to some tabloid and tell them you said you love some girl you’ve known since you were ten.”

Jamie deflates a little so you continue. “We’re going to talk about all this. We’re going to talk about Roy Kent and your dad and the fact that your mum misses you so she calls me instead, and I’m going to make you breakfast and probably hold your hand and by the time you leave, you’re going to feel better and maybe actually feel fucking happy, because I see you in pictures, Jaim, and your smile really doesn’t reach your eyes anymore.”

“It’s fucked, ain’t it?” he says quietly. “I’m twenty-three, still letting me dad push me around.” He puts the jacket back on the couch and walks toward you. “And Roy Kent- he’s been my hero since I was a kid. He fucking hates me, and now he’s got a reason because I ended his fucking career. Me. And I have to live with that shit. It was the fucking worst game I’ve ever had to play. I hate being with City, especially since they all hate me for bein’ at Richmond. Pep’s the only one who didn’t say shit, just told me I was a good lad. I’ve been feeling all these emotional things and I didn’t want to go to me mum and I knew you lived ‘round here, so I thought I’d come over. You always made me feel better after seeing my dad.”

Jamie’s right in front of you now, rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone. You’re absolutely positive he can hear your heartbeat, and you dare to thread your arms around his waist.

“I loved you the first time I saw you. That’s why I was always hanging ‘round. Mum knew, she teased me about it for the longest time. Always tried to get me to say somethin’, but I weren’t ready. And you always fucking saw right through me, which freaked me the fuck out. Even now, I feel like- like you’re looking straight through me to my soul, and it’s fucking terrifying. But-” he takes a deep breath, “I also feel safe around you. I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I’ve seen you eat so much cake you had to lie down on the couch and sleep it off.”

He’s grinning now, and so are you.

“Hey,” you say, poking his chest, “I was ten and you thought you were all great because you were a year older than me and way too smart to do shit like that, as if you haven’t puked from drinking too much.”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell, maybe you know too much about me.”

“Not possible, Tartt,” you reply. “Now, you need a shirt and I need to shower.”

He smiles. “I think you might need some help. Heard you hate showering alone.”

You laugh. “Alright, you knob. Guess it’s been long enough.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

287 notes · View notes

lorimnnn · 10 months

Note

hey babez :3 could u possibly write about how michael feels for a hyperfemme bimbo gf? like he never sees her without heels and lashes on X3 this is shamelessly a self insert lol

i have no excuses. this has been sitting in my inbox and stewing in my mind for way too long but here it is!!! i was so excited to put it out I have no idea what happened lol

hope you enjoy my love!!

p.s. remember to reblog and comment!!!

cw: swearing, canon-typical violence, suggestive themes

i feel like a lot of the people who say he wouldn't care because he's literally a psychopathic serial killer forget he was born in 1957. He was literally raised in the sixties--- he won't care BUT HE'S GOING TO NOTICE.

michael is a watcher. long before he approached you he has memorised your routine, developed favourites from your closet, salivated over the doe-eyed batting of your long lashes when something doesn't quite go your way. you will later learn that your missing makeup products and fraying clothes is because of this fucker playing with you.

he's intrigued by you. the way you prance around without a care in the world, legs exposed, everything exposed. it's so scandalous. it feels like a sin to look at you alone.

the confidence that you carry yourself with only arouses him even more. he can't even fully objectify you because you know your worth and have standards and therefore he finds himself wondering what you're like. your personality. everything in between.

it becomes obsessive

when he approaches you, it's to extinguish his desire over your body. over you.

if he lets it go any further he'll---

are you... are you flirting with him?

he doesn't know how to feel with you looking directly at him, flinging comments his way despite knowing, KNOWING who he is. you're not even mistaken, you're just going for it even though he still has a knife in his hand

he already can't resist you

when you start running your hands down his body, he's done. just done.

if you're a bimbo in the 1960s (idfk you time travelled), you're going to be an outsider yourself and it makes him feel closer to you. you're practically a power couple--- two outsiders doing whatever the fuck you want with your lives? marriage. now.

you make him feel like a filthy old man. michael was raised with ideas of a white-picket fence and a busy 9-5 with a pretty wife to come home to. all that jazz. while he isn't that traditional you're going to be uprooting everything he once thought he knew and you best believe that when he looks at you, there is not one clean thought in his head

he becomes possessive tenfold. it doesn't help that you're dead gorgeous. will try stop you from leaving the house. will lock you and isolate you in there if he knew it wouldn't draw attention. why the fuck did you have to be so popular?

so many guys asking after you are now dead. and they keep popping up like flies--- Michael gets annoyed by this really easily. it's probably the only part of your getup and lifestyle that he doesn't really like. since he's a pretty independent killer and likes to go and do his own thing, it sets him on edge knowing he can't leave you alone for a minute without having like, 500 men pile up on his hit list

you get a free scary dog now at least. yay! privileges! feel free to walk wherever you want at whatever time of day or night. Michael will take care of you and castrate any man dumbass enough to even look your way

michael is so obsessed it's not okay

his favourite part about this though is watching you get ready. then tearing it all off you and watching you have to start again. you'll be doing your makeup and his hands will just be running up and down your legs, squeezing your thighs and waist, bruises left in his wake.

you'll be constantly swatting him away because he can't help himself. his hand is always on an exposed part of your skin

he just thinks you're so gorgeous and not in a loving way, but an inquisitive way. he's genuinely affronted by how good you look and he doesn't understand it, that explosive, sensual vitality of yours that can never be snuffed out and is so, uniquely you. he wants to pull you apart and understand you because just like him, you're an anomaly of your time

he already has a staring problem... can you imagine him now? he's not looking away once. it'll quickly get uncomfortable because he just won't stop. doesn't even wanna close his eyes when you're sleeping. everything you do to him is just provoking him. push his face away? he's going to steel himself and lean into your touch. shove him? he's a brick wall and thinks you're feeling him up. yell at him about it? he's unimpressed--- don't you get it? you're literally the centre of his world. why would he look away?

michael is literally feral for you i don't make the rules

tell him you've got nothing to wear and he will go and pick an outfit he's lowkey been fantasising about for a good month, waiting for the opportunity. and it's actually pretty good. depending on how you react, this will become his love language for you--- acts of service.

definitely starts targeting other bimbos and stealing from their closet to give you clothes.

i have a very clear image in my head of The Shape himself, prowling down the streets of Haddonfield and surveying the empty streets of the night, utterly ferocious as he hunts his next kill---

completely softening when his bimbo s/o, previously clinging to his arm like they're on a nightly stroll, trips over nothing.

if your feet ever start to hurt from the heels, he will happily carry you. but not in a cute way. as in a 'I want you around but you're holding me up. I'm going to sweep you off your feet now. Don't fall."

decorate his mask with lip prints

I dare you

you'd think he would hate it but it's been like a few weeks and the lip prints are still there. you know he loves it. he knows he loves it. he will always pretend to be indifferent though and it will surprise you every time. michael can care less about how scary he looks. even with his s/o making him look like a besotten college boyfriend, looking scary is the last of his worries when he's literally a famed killer.

since he's following you anyway, use his pockets. mechanics overalls have so many pockets. and he'll encourage you. if you ever end up walking around at night with him and start complaining that you forgot your lipgloss at home, he's going to suddenly be holding out his hand--- he's a walking, non-talking, portable storage bin and be grateful because this is his only way of showing non-physical affection lmao. i fully suggest you take advantage of this. he doesn't need his pockets anyway, he holds his knife. so feel free to stock him up and rummage around as much as you like

but be warned. if you touch him in the slightest when retrieving your lipgloss from one of his pockets, he's going to think you're sending signals.

holds all your specialists at knife point so you can get your stuff done for free. if you don't like that, just tell him. but he thinks he's helping you lmfao. your poor nail girl is pissing herself trying to glue on your acrylics

just give him lots of kisses to fuel up for the day and he's good (he will stand there and act unresponsive and neutral, but if you don't give him his daily dose of affection he's going to continue to stand there, blocking your path until you do)

and don't be fooled, either. Michael may be soft on you but he is not a soft man

definitely takes sick pleasure in seeing his bruises peeking out of your skimpy clothes, his marks on full display on your neck. it's just so territorial and it's one of the few things that is able to send a rush through him--- knowing that everyone wants you and that you're walking prey, but you've already been claimed

is like an animal around you. give him one signal and you will definitely be devoured--- i hope you don't spend a lot of money on clothes because you're going to find a lot of it destroyed. better learn how to sew

just think of him as your pet rabid dog. full stop.

otherwise i actually think Michael loves his hyperfemme bimbo gf. not that he'll admit it, but you know. he's horrible at hiding it but it has a lot to do with the fact he doesn't try. just stay out of trouble and he won't wreck havoc on your life <3

Michael has always been an outsider.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he'd become a killer as a kid, although that was the first and most obvious sign. Growing up in the sanitarium had only conditioned him into believing he could never be anything else and that his only mercy would be embracing it. Funny. Now he was rumoured to be the devil incarnate: the ultimate outsider.

But that wasn't the point.

Even if Michael weren't a killer, he'd always been different. A flimsy grasp on emotions and even clumsier responses to things that were supposed to inspire sympathy. Sadness. Pity. The in-between emotions that weren't quite happy but weren't quite sad or angry or scared. But he'd just been slow in development, right? One day it would end and he would wake up and be like the rest of them. It had been a naive thought--- it had gotten Judith killed.

The sanitarium also taught Michael other things, other than the fact that he would never belong in society as anything more than a menace and disruption. He learned that he was a rarity. Some sort of unexplainable anomaly that they had to contain because they couldn't understand, and because he didn't care about changing that, he would never be free. The sanitarium had taught Michael that people feared him because there weren't many of him. So he gave them something real to fear.

He never really came across someone like him. It wouldn't have really changed things, but it would have added bredth to perspective. But Michael would soon find out that anomalies like him came in all shapes and sizes. Anomalies, like you, were just as strange, even if you fit in much better than he did.

You.

He didn't know what to make of you.

"Hey sexy!" A drunkard's voice floated over the heads over the bar and stabbed right into your back. You only wrinkled your nose.

"Um, ew!"

"Aw, don't be like that. You don't mean that." His eyes raked over you. "Looking for anybody, hey? I can save you the time you spend searching."

You look like you're about to gag. "No. Like, never. In a kajillion years."

"Bitch."

"What's the word again?" You frowned. "The men with no dicks?"

"... Eunuchs?"

"Yeah!" You beamed. "That's you. 'Cause you have no balls."

His friends roared in laughter as red crawled over the man's face. You were satisfied enough by then to move on. You knew he wasn't done. He'd probably try follow you home. That made you smirk.

You had a little magic trick up your sleeve for little diseases like them. A magic trick you weren't even sure knew that you knew he existed: Michael fucking Myers.

Michael didn't understand what it was about you that stuck out so much. You were here at the bar for what every other person was there for. Talk. Drink. Fuck, maybe, if you got lucky that was. You were all dolled up like every other woman in the room but it was like the spotlight was naturally attracted to you and he couldn't look away. Was it that tiny little skirt? Your tits pressed up towards your chin by a tight little top? You were so scandalously dressed and hid nothing. Your intentions were clear and yet somehow that repelled people the same way it drew them in.

Michael could tell you were like him. You couldn't relate to the conversations. The difference was that you tried to. They'd just laugh at you and walk away--- another dead tonight.

How long has it been, now? Since he'd started stalking you? A few days? Weeks? Months?

It had never occurred to him that you could be doing it on purpose. Changing with your blinds wide open, bending over when you caught a glimpse of him standing there in your mirror. But the obsession had gripped him. There was no escaping.

And it was distracting him horribly.

You would die tonight, he decided. These... Feelings would die with you.

It all happens in moments.

Him, following you home.

Him, raising the knife above his head.

You, turning before it could meet home, pressing your body against his.

"I knew you'd say hi one day."

Michael stops. Tilts his head.

"Not like this, though." You pout. You run your finger down the cheek of his mask and along the zipper of his mechanic's overalls. Your touch is electric and he can nearly feel it against his skin, the thrills exploding at the slightest pressure. "I'm honestly kind of hurt."

He could kill you now.

Maybe give you a chance to run?

Having you see him and speak directly to him, though, is a dizzying feeling he can't quite seem to recover from. But from the outside he looks stoic. He looks like he's humouring you before your inevitable death, which you inwardly frantically hope against.

"Michael, right?" You taste the word, curiously finding your way around it. "Mikey."

He stares at you impassively.

"I thought you had a crush on me." You draw circles into his chest with your finger and tilt your head back to look at him. "Did I get it wrong?"

Er... Not really.

You were either really dumb or maybe just---

Maybe a little weird like him.

Michael slowly lowers the knife. You take it as an olive branch and push yourself further against him, hard enough to feel the contours of his toned stomach and the rippling valleys of his body. Muscular. Well, he was a serial killer. You could put that thought away for now, though.

"I've been dying for you to talk to me all week. What took you so long?" You bite your lip. "I almost went and talked to you myself. Oh. Oooh. Maybe I should have. I think you're more excited than I am that we're finally talking."

Experimentally, his hand comes up to take hold of your throat. He inspects you--- your long, fake lashes framing filthy doe eyes, the sparkling smear of eyeshadow across your lid that matches your abnormally long and sharp nails. The confidence in which you hold yourself despite being at the mercy of The Shape himself. Genuine.

You're being genuine.

And Michael is... Feeling things. A lot of things. It's almost overwhelming, the onslaught of arousal, the heightened obsession, the near-desperate desire to possess you right there and then---

Mine, he thinks, and he almost says it out loud. Mine.

#slasher x reader #slashers #michael myers #michael myers x reader #slasher #slasher x y/n #michael myers x y/n #halloween #michael myers x you #why tf does tumblr have a word limit on bullet points i hate this i wanted to include so much more what the fuck

289 notes · View notes

mylittleredgirl · 1 month

Text

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @geneeste. :) i may have done this one before, but tumblr blog search was traditionally unhelpful and i have several very important things i should be doing, so here we are <3

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 219

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 655,471

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis is the runaway lead, then sg-1, 90s/00s treks, the x-files, and a grab bag of other things. only two fics so far for m*a*s*h but the forecast looks good!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

no sooner met (star trek voyager, j/c, eight years of friends-to-lovers in 5k or less)

career day (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, damn that sure was a choice to go back to high school amirite)

next chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor, the intimacy of reading)

first date (star trek voyager, j/c, falling in love again)

occupational hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor, eleanor would rather not be the architect)

5. Do you respond to comments?

eventually!!!! i tend to keep nice ones on my home page for a while to cheer me up and then sometimes they get buried. i wake up nights like "damn the good place fandom really went all out with amazing comments on that random fic in like 2018 and i never replied," so maybe i need to go through my inbox and belatedly clear my cosmic debts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

twilight (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, what if john didn't break the cycle). strong on style but real weak on comfort.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

weaving loose ends (stargate sg-1, sam/jack) ends with a wedding! in twenty years of writing romance fic, that has maybe only happened once?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not yet! but the year is young.

a fic of mine did cause a dramatic fandom schism once, in the dancing with the stars fandom no less. a splinter fan group created in exile! a mod claiming to be personal friends with the stars! everybody storming out and then blocking each other! so my fic did cause hate, but somehow i personally escaped unscathed. i didn't even get blocked. (lesson: in some spaces, rpf is encouraged until They Fuck. second lesson: if you start a fire and then stay very quiet, everyone forgets about you.)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do!! i guess!! but i'm struggling with it right now and it's giving me a complex. and "what kind" is like......... vanilla het fic for the most part tbh. gauzy curtain vibes, even. basically, i have to really sit and think about whether to rate something M or E, you know?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, but not since the x-files days. rip geocities webrings we salute you for your years of service.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but i think i'd like to! passing chapters back and forth sleepover style like "haha write your way out of THIS" would be fun. (or collaborating in a more mundane way, i guess....)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir (stargate atlantis). first fic in the tag and i'm still fuckin there. three years on tv and a lifetime in my goddamn brain.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

realistically, i'm feeling pretty down on the chances that i'll ever finish ANY wip that's longer than 20k, but the two long ones withering on the vine that i'd like to finish are a sam/jack sg1 episodic soulmate fic and "what if janeway went undercover with the maquis instead of tuvok: the novel."

16. What are your writing strengths?

stealing one of geneeste's answers because "character complexity" is a good one! i don't feel satisfied with any fic unless i feel like i have learned something new about a character, or highlighted it in a new way.

my more specific strength, according to @coraclavia, is missing-scene fics that weave through an entire series canon to make a thesis statement (they are In Love).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

😭 i can't write anything long 😭 i really wish i were different 😭 i envy those of you with staying power who can return to a story after going to work or writing something else and keep plugging away at it. i used to write sprawling things when i was a teen, but since becoming Adult With Job now many years ago, i've totally lost that skill!!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

haaaahahahaha. talk about a weakness. i literally couldn't bring myself to write a fic that required dialogue in Ancient from stargate, a language that -- i cannot stress this enough -- is not even real. i'm like "well maybe i'll study latin for three years and then analyze all the episodes where they speak it to reverse engineer the differences so i can write the bastardized space latin correctly" GIRL WHY. JUST FUCK IT UP.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

first completed story that i recall would have been star trek voyager in my early teens, and by the grace of rural internet and some kind of prescient sense of self-preservation, it does not live online. first internet-published fic was several years later, for the x-files. for better or worse, that one can still be found.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

i think pieces (stargate atlantis, sheppard/weir, catharsis through sex pollen) might be the new best, and i had a lot of fun writing erasers on pencils (stargate sg-1, clone!sam/jack, catharsis through truancy).

i am sure many of my fic-writer-meme friends have done this already but @ussjellyfish if your answers have changed since whenever you did it last; i'd love to hear how @havocthecat, @anretc, and @coraclavia would answer this; and blowing dandelion meme seeds over the fence to the mash fandom: @remyfire!

#when i say i write short one-shots i just did some napkin math #and my average word count is below 3k and several of my longest 'fics' are collections #NOT BEATING THE ALLEGATIONS #fic asks #mai fic #i think i might find this under one of those tags the next time someone tags me so i will know for sure i've done it...

28 notes · View notes

eveenstar · 2 years

Text

MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS, PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔰 || 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯||

𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑖𝑖: 𝑊𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼 𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: It is Stephen's turn to search the library for spells to return to their universe, leaving (Y/N) alone with the Sinister Strange. They end up having a conversation about "old times."

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰/𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Cursing

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: (Comment/Reblog/Use my inbox if you wish to be tagged!) @jimin-sii @ghost-lantern @dopeqff @dragonqueen89 @weirdhorrorenthusiast @justsomecreaturewandering @fadedeuphoria @yuugenmomo @slut-for-matt-murdock @sonnensplitter @isasv @catherinewind05 @thewestcoasts @sanctumsanctorumshenanigans @nancy-thompsons @kuboshu1 @mylovelyreblogs @uncle-eggy @sweet0pia-uwu @severuined @dishwasher666 @andrewswifes-blog

ɑ/ɳ: I must let you all know that I have been reading every single comment and I appreciate you guys SO MUCH!!! It's a wonderful feeling waking up in the morning to read the walls of comments under the chapters ❤ A huge thank you <3 P.S: I feel like this chapter is all over the place and I'm not proud of it, I'm very sorry!

"Alright Stephen," (Y/N) cracked her fingers and neck in an attempted to release the discomfort in her muscles. "You're up."

Doctor Strange was sitting in the couch meditating while Sinister Strange was by one of the windows, gazing outside - in (Y/N)'s mind they looked like two territorial cats on the edge of attacking each other. Stephen opened his eyes, first looking at the other Strange - as if to check if he was still there - and then back to her.

He quirked his eyebrow. "Are you sure?" The sorceress nodded, "Maybe you should search harder. "

Dumbfounded, (Y/N) stared at him in silence before crossing her arms. She knew the reason for his strange - no pun intended - behaviour, Stephen had made it clear he did not want her alone with his dark counter-part. But (Y/N) was a grown woman who had spent the rest of the day studying and she had more than enough with his paranoia.

"Stephen, I spent the last 7 hours in the library. You better move your ass from that couch before I kick it." The heroic sorcerer raised his eyebrows as if challenging her. Sinister Strange's shoulders shook lightly. "The only thing close enough were some books about time manipulation and time travel."

While the two sorcerers discussed it - more like Stephen trying to convince (Y/N) to keep searching, they missed Sinister Strange's slight head turn after the young sorcereress mentioned the books she found.

"Be careful, please." Their eyes met. It had been so long since Stephen's eyes carried vulnerable emotions in their reflection - once, (Y/N) used to drown herself in the warm waters of his gaze -, emotions that he had swore to hide away from the universe.

(Y/N) winked, a comforting smile spreading on her features. "You know me."

Stephen sighed and made his way to the library with great hesitance, "That's why I'm worried."

The atmosphere was lifted once the two sorcerers weren't in each other's presence. (Y/N) aspired loudly and dramatically fell onto the couch - the dust hovered in the air but that didn't matter, she was thankful she finally had a place to rest.

Once settled, (Y/N) let her mind wander. So much had changed in the last six years, ever since The Blip, and ever since she...was gone for five years. Still, of course, it felt like it happened yesterday - she remembered her disappointment in Stephen after he gave the stone to Thanos, and the disturbing peace she felt when she was 'dying' - at least she wouldn't be here to see the aftermath.

"Stephen?" The sorcerer turned around to look at (Y/N). In this reality, it was not him who was snapped, it was his companion-in-magic. "What did you do?"

"I'm sorry." He wished he could disappear as well, the haunted yet grave look on her face was enough to make his stomach twirl in regret. "There was no other way."

The sorceress hissed at the memory - She believed in putting the greater good above others lives, but in her mind, there was a limit not to crossed. Even if they got everyone back, tried to bring normality to the world, it had a cost. Of course, everything had a cost.

And that cost was heavy on her shoulders.

"Those books I found," Strange remained stoic by the window, "We don't have them back in our universe. Where did you get them?"

"In a library." Now, the sorcerer turned to her with a cryptic smirk playing on his lips. (Y/N) quirked her eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"Why are you studying about time manipulation and time travel...Strange?" A sting of fear made her second-guess her choice of conversation when the sinister sorcerer stood tall in front of her - she didn't even see him coming!

Sinister Strange slowly lifted her chin up to look at him - he had been so eager to feel her, to know that this wasn't another hallucination of his fractured mind. The sorcerer bored his gaze on hers, that trademark look that he has with his piercing blue eyes, and immediately followed by a crooked smile.

"It is not polite to interrogate the host, now is it?" (Y/N) could almost see the amusement behind his eyes, and his actions made her heart beat faster that she could feel it on her head - but defiant, she got up to level up with him as best as she could. This was not the time to let her feelings get in the way, he was still Stephen Strange after all.

"We're not your enemies."

Strange hummed and shook his head, "No, you are not." He cut her short before (Y/N) could reply, "My apologies." Strange took a step back, allowing her some space, "It has been a long time since I had...proper interactions with someone."

The sorceress could understand the feeling, somewhat, or at least she tried to. It had not been easy adjusting to normal life after being gone for five years. "I get it, I really do." She laughed to ease off the tension, "You try being gone for five years and adapt to life afterwards."

Now it was Sinister Strange's turn to feel confused - and of course, (Y/N) could tell by the curious yet surprised look on his (often emotionless) face that the Blip had not occurred here.

"What...What happened?" His voice, too, sounded softener. "Did you..." Strange couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence. Did she die and her Stephen brought her back? Without any consequences? How?!

"Well, technically, yes, but then Bruce brought everyone back." A saddened look befell on her eyes, "But sadly that did not affect those who died during those five years."

There was silence, but a comforting one. It was like he was giving her time, and space, to feel her emotions and let them all out for him to see.

"Thanos used the Infinity Stones to kill half of the universe, all thanks to Stephen who gave him the last stone." (Y/N) sighed. "I'm sorry, you would've probably done the same thing."

"I would not." Strange narrowed his eyes as if he took offense to that.

Despite being the same person, having the same genes, Strange was proving himself to be...a different man than her Stephen was. (Y/N) did not know if she should be frightened or not.

She couldn't help but look outside.

"So is this what happened...?" It was more of a loud thought than a question, "You didn't give Thanos the time stone and...this was the result."

The sorceress did not expect an answer this time - Her theory was making perfect sense in her mind. The fog surrounding the distorted buildings in the distance gave her a sensation of deja vu, or maybe an impeding doom? She could no longer tell the difference.

Strange remained silent as he watched her.

"There is a..." Stumbling on his words, the sorcerer cleared his throat. "You can use your bedroom upstairs. You clearly need a shower and a change of clothes." (Y/N) stared back at him with widen eyes, "And try to get some sleep."

"Thank you," Gods, she could hug him right then if she didn't feel like it'd be evading his bubble, "Thank you so much!" Even if she couldn't hug him, she sure as hell could run upstairs like there was no tomorrow.

With her scene done, there came another character to the stage that was the Sanctum.

Hidden in the shadows, the heroic Doctor Strange was witness to his sinister counter-part interaction with his protégé - He was ready to defend them both if Sinister Strange attacked, but that was not the case, just yet - and once the protagonist was no longer in sight, all facade was put aside. The sinister doctor locked eyes with Stephen and unlike (Y/N), he saw a reflection of death and destruction behind his mirror.

#dark!doctor strange x reader #dark!doctor strange #sinister strange x reader #sinister strange #dark!marvel #stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic series

438 notes · View notes

raichett · 1 year

Text

what a wicked thing to do

AU where Third Life was nothing but a dream, and none of the people in it were ever real - except Grian, the dreamer. Can also be found on AO3 here.

1. Grian wakes up. He’s not expecting to.

He’s in a hospital bed - white walls, beeping, a bit chilly - it’s unmistakeable. There’s a woman by his side: Pearl.

That’s my sister, he thinks, numbly. He’d forgotten he had a sister. He’d forgotten what a hospital was, and most of the machines that he now recognises.

He forgot a lot. And what he remembers is tainted with blood and sand.

2. “You’ve been in a comatose state for the last eight weeks, Miss Griande,” the nurse tells him, using his deadname but since he’s not out publicly he lets it slide. It also shakes him a bit: no one there called him anything but ‘Grian’.

“Eight weeks,” he repeats, numb. His voice is too high, too breathy, even though it’s strained with lack of use. It feels wrong. It doesn’t sound like how he thinks he should sound, how he’s used to sounding.

“There was an incident with the lighting equipment,” Pearl tells him gently. “It crashed down on the stage while you were on tour - no one died, but several were badly hurt, including you. Your agent has already hired lawyers - they’re suing, but don’t worry about any of that, it’s all in hand.”

Grian looks at her, feeling overwhelmed. I died, he thinks. Three times.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Pearl says, happy tears at the corners of her eyes.

Grian, suddenly, horribly, wishes he weren’t.

3. Grian goes home with Pearl after a few days. He struggles to sleep through the night; Scar isn’t there to hold him. His bed is too empty, the place by his side too quiet, and -

Scar’s dead. Grian killed him. But Scar wasn’t ever alive in the first place, and now it’s all tangled in Grian’s head.

“Who’s Scar?” Pearl asks him one morning as they sit at the breakfast table. Grian’s still struggling to eat, and not all of it can be put down to having been on a liquid diet for the last few weeks.

Grian freezes.

“He was...” Grian struggles to say it. How does one describe Scar? The man was larger than life, despite not owning one. (Or despite owning three, and losing all of them.) “From my dream,” he settles on.

“From your coma?”

“... Yeah.”

4. The fans are clamouring for his attention since it was announced that he awoke from his coma. Grian can hardly look at Twitter, at the constant begging for some sign of life from Ariana’s personal account. There’s an official one, run by his team, but it’s the personal Twitter and Instagram that people are spamming. He doesn’t think he can stand the thought of opening his inbox.

No one wanted him this badly there. Except Scar, perhaps, but even Jimmy and Scott - both gone the same way as Scar, disappearing into nothingness, existing only in warped memory of fragile dreams now awoken from - hadn’t been so attached that they hung on his every word.

Finally, Grian types out, Physical therapy isn’t very fun but I’m doing well everyone! Please be patient with me xxx and posts it. On his Ariana Griande Instagram, he posts a selfie of himself in front of a window, smiling cutely and holding two fingers up in a victory sign.

Most of the fans gobble it up, but Grian, scrolling through the comments like he knows he’s not supposed to if he wants to keep his sanity, sees a few people noting that he looks thin, pale, not himself. They’re worried, and probably right to be.

I don’t feel like myself, Grian thinks. I feel like someone else.

What is the space between who you were and who you have become? When did the transformation occur? Or can you only come out the other side and say that you survived? If you did, of course. Survive, that is.

5. “I want him, I want Scar,” Grian cries into Pearl’s neck as they sit on the bed, Pearl embracing him tightly after another nightmare of the desert and the cactus ring and the cliff of Monopoly Mountain. “I want him back.”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl says, helplessly. Tears wet her pyjama top collar as she holds her brother close, his limbs still weak as he recovers from their atrophy, nowhere near ready to take to the stage again yet. “He’s not - Scar’s not here. He can’t be here. I’m sorry.”

“He was mine,” Grian chokes out. “He was mine and I killed him!”

“Grian,” Pearl says, trying to be gentle, trying to find the right words, but the right words don’t exist, “he wasn’t real. He wasn’t ever real.”

“But I loved him,” Grian whispers, broken and small. He looks up at Pearl desperately, begging his sister to try and understand. She won’t. “Pearl, please, I didn’t - it’s not - but I - I loved - ”

“Gri...”

“But I loved him...”

#my writing #fanfic #scarian #unreality #trafficshipping #ariana griande #sorry not sorry for this #flash fic

133 notes · View notes

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 2 years

Text

A Moment's Surprise--Chapter 9

Whether it’s called an accident or the fates of the universe, you and Calum find yourselves taking on the next level of your relationship: parenthood.

Reader (Gender Neutral) X Calum. Multi-chapter Series.

Series Note: Across this series, pregnancy is discussed thoroughly. While I have made this series specifically a reader insert and have done my best to avoid coding for cis women, I am taking this moment to acknowledge that this content may not be suitable for every reader. I want to acknowledge even if I’ve been careful some things (like uteri) are still mentioned and if that causes you discomfort please DO NOT read this. You may keep scrolling (as there is a read more) / skip this as necessary.

Series Masterlist

As the weeks pass of the tour, you and Calum find a rhythm. He calls when he wakes in the mornings, usually right around the time you take a quick 15 minute break at work and step outside. Sometimes you’ll walk the building, other times you’ll just sit and enjoy the sun. Though the conversations are short, you two are able to reconnect on the most pressing things. Like the venue for the babyshower finally confirms you all being able to get the convention room for September 17th or Calum finally hitting the green on his practice GED tests, which means he’s more than likely to pass the real one, or the updates from the doctor about how the weight and blood pressure are progressing for you.

Throughout the day, small things will get sent through text. Like you ask Calum to verify the guestlist when he gets the chance, or sending him pictures of cute little onesies you spy out with Joy. Or Calum will send you pictures from all the places he stops at or he tells you that he confirmed the guestlist last week but he can resend the email so it’s at the top of your inbox. There’s of course memes and silly things you two find on the corners of the internet that you two are one.

In the evenings that they don’t have a show, Calum calls after he knows you’ve had dinner so that the two of you talk until you fall asleep. When he does have a show, you set an alarm to get up and talk about how the show went. On days that you have a doctor's appointment, Calum knows he’s going to get a bump update. He clings to his phone on those days, wanting nothing more than to know what fruit his baby boy is being compared to and when he finds out, he runs to the other guys to celebrate.

Tonight is a night that Calum doesn’t have a show, so from the couch of the tour bus, Calum watches you snuggle into the sheets back at home. “Looks comfy,” he comments.

“Missing you,” you return. “But I do have Duke.” Turning down the covers, you’re able to show off Duke who’s burrowed next to you.

Calum laughs. “I’m glad he’s taking good care of you.”

“Did you talk to Joy today?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “After I called you this morning, I talked to her.”

You nod, knowing Joy had mentioned missing Calum just by a second earlier in the week. “Where’s next for you?”

Calum shrugs for a moment but he does turn his attention away for a moment, “Texas is next? Ash, is that right?”

“Yeah, Texas. I think there are three shows.”

Calum looks back at you, “Texas.”

“All my exes live in Texas,” you sing, mostly in jest but the lyric does cause you to pause. Calum’s laughter echoes through your speakers. “Can I confess something?” You ask after the laughter subsided.

“Yes, love. You always can.”

“I read through some delivery stories on my break.” You pause and Calum nods, signaling that he’s listening. “What if I shit myself in delivery?”

From Calum you hear a stifled laugh but in the background Ashton howls his laughter. You know it sounds ridiculous. But there’s the inkling of fear. What would anyone think of you should it happen to you? Sure nurses may be used to it but it worries you. Calum throws a half hearted swat at Ashton and the laughter quiets but you can tell both men are close to cracking again should they share more than a second look.

“Babe, what—what are you talking about?” Calum asks, keeping his gaze on you.

“When I’m pushing. I’ve heard some people accidentally poop themselves. What if I shit myself?”

“What has your doula said about this?” The laughter is slowly leaving his voice.

“I’ll meet with her tomorrow, so I haven’t brought it up to her yet. I know it sounds silly. But I don’t want to shit on our baby or myself!”

Calum nods. “I hear you. I’m sure all the nurses and doctors there are more than equipped to handle it should it happen. But let’s see what might cause it and what we can do to avoid it, okay?”

It’s logical but still a bit of the fear remains. “I’m not losing it you know? It’s a real thing.”

“I'm sorry for laughing. I do believe it’s a real thing and I think if I were in your shoes I would be worried too. It mostly took me by surprise, love.”

“Imagine my surprise too,” you exhale out through your own bout of laughter.

“I’ll still love you even if you do shit yourself in delivery,” Calum offers softly to you. “And any other time too?”

“I’ll love you too, even if you get old and need adult diapers.”

“I disgustingly adore this,” Ashton chimes in from the background. “It’s actually insane how much I adore this but also disgusting because it’s not happening to me.”

Calum cracks a smile. “I’m sure it’s much more thrilling to have the shitting yourself during delivery conversation rather than the would you still love them if they were a worm.”

“But I would then be a worm? Why does it matter?” you ask.

Calum only laughs watching something out of the scope of the phone. “Ashton’s mad at me but he knows I’m right,” he giggles out before landing his gaze back on you. “There was a thing about significant others asking if the other would still love them if they were a worm. I’m shocked you didn’t catch wind of that fiasco on social media.”

“No, I did. But like I would be a worm. It doesn’t matter,” you laugh.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t love me if I was a worm?”

“Calum—you would in fact be a worm. I would care that you were safe and that you felt your short lived worm life was full but you would be a worm.”

He squeaks at your response. “So if I suddenly turned into a worm tomorrow, you’d just not care?”

“You absolutely did not include the human being of you suddenly turned into a worm. That��s a different scenario.”

“Different, huh?”

“Calum Thomas Hood, I would love you and do what I could to turn you back into a human. But if you are saying you were a worm from the start, that is an entirely different scenario.”

Ashton’s voice floats in from the background. “Oh how the tables have turned.”

“Stay out of this, Irwin. You’ve caused enough trouble as is,” Calum retorts. “It’s important that I know if worm me is getting the same love as human me.”

“Sounds like a suddenly turned worm you would be, but if you were just a regular ol’ worm, I’d watch out,” Ashton giggles.

The worm debate only lasts for a minute or two longer, as Calum concedes that maybe it is a slightly different scenario to suddenly be turned into a worm than it would be to be a worm since the start. In the silence after the tufts of laughter, Calum watches you snuggle in even deeper under the covers. A yawn interrupts your statement, but Calum doesn’t seem to care too much about it as he asks, “Sleepy, love?”

“A smidgen,” you answer. “But I was going to say that I’m sad to have missed the LA shows. Joy said the second show was great.”

Calum nods. “They were both great shows. I missed seeing the little finger wags in the audience,” Calum laughs, referencing the dance his mother is notorious for.

You--in the times before realizing you were pregnant--had agreed to go to the first LA show. However, once you got word of the baby it quickly became a question of how far along you would be, how much would you be showing, and did the two of you want to address the pregnancy publicly. Things kept pointing to you. At work, you kept to your normal attire though it was increasingly more and more clear that you were expecting. Your coworkers were a safe group of people to tell, but if you went to a show, it ran the risk of being spotted. If you got spotted, then questions about your dressing of choice would become a topic of conversation. If clothes came up, then the rumors would fly.

You not being there was the better choice as you knew or at least feared that things weren’t certain. Though the check ups were always good, the fear never left. On top of the fear, the last thing you wanted to do was to defend not only your relationship with Calum to others, you’d have to also defend your choice to still have this baby even if others didn’t agree with the order in which you and Calum were doing things. There was no winning for losing so you stuck to avoiding the battle if at all possible. Especially given how quickly things in pregnancy could shift. The last thing you wanted was to announce the pregnancy and then lose it. An already messy ordeal would then be made into a public display.

Even though it wasn’t a loss to have neither you or Joy go, the last thing you wanted for her was to feel chained to you. So you suggested that Joy could go to one of the shows. It might bring up questions as to why Joy was in town. But it was Joy, she was Calum’s mother and the thing more evident that Calum’s soft heart was the tenderness he had for his family. So Joy went to the show in your place and when she returned, she was all smiles the rest of the day. It made your heart soar at the sight. WEven though you’d missed out, there was still a win to come out of the change.

Calum watches you, the way your gaze looks unfocused on the screen. “Next time,” he offers. “And our little one will be on your hip and they’ll probably be fast asleep, but it’ll be the three of us, a little family.”

“We’ll be cheering Pops on from the wings,” you offer with a smile. You yawn again with the action. “I’m fading fast, love,” you whisper. Your eyes flutter close.

“I’ll stay on if you want until you fall asleep.”

“It’ll probably be the next five minutes,” you laugh. “Didn’t realize how tired I was until I laid down.”

“And I’ll stay on for all five of them.”

“Again--why is this not happening to me?” Ashton calls out. “You hang up first. No, you hang up first,” he teases.

“I know someone from work,” you call out, hoping that your voice will carry.

Calum’s laughter rings in your ears. Behind your closed eyelids, it sounds like he’s right next to you. Like at any second now his arms will slip around your waist and he’ll press a kiss to the back of your neck. Maybe--though it’s not really a question of if but when anymore--he’ll smooth a hand over your growing belly and he’ll whisper softly to the still in womb baby. His voice sounds like it could wisp along your neck. You let the thought carry you as far it can before sleep grips you fully.

Calum watches the steady rise and fall of the bed sheets. The phone falls just a little from the hold in your hand. You are gone--fully out to the woes of the world and he grins happy to see just how much tension leaves your face in your sleep. “Sleep well, angel,” he whispers before ending the call.

“So, who do they know from work?” Ashton asks.

Calum snickers. “It might be Deb or it could be Angie. Those are the two that I know from them that are more consistently recounting their dating life. Literally, I couldn’t tell you much else besides that.”

“Of course. Just my luck!”

Tagging: @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo @busstop @icelily13 @carma-fanficaddict @one-sweet-gubler @fandomfoodiedancer @markaylafruitcup @sunflowercalum @wiiildflowerrr

52 notes · View notes

kitausuret · 11 months

Note

im on my computer BUT the sunflower question and the leaf question <3

🌻 what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

A really bad block or lack of inspiration can definitely make me want to give up. And I do have a few fics where I did essentially just give up on them. But I don't think I could ever give up writing altogether, I just have so many things I want to say! So many things I have to write! Even when I get very little engagement I feel like there's always at least one person who will appreciate what I wrote, and you know what? Even one person is enough for me. Everyone else is missing out and that's their loss. 😌'

And honestly, related to what I just said, I really do write for myself and my rotation of 3-6 people. My friends keep me writing. I mostly write fanfic to share with others! To share my love and sometimes my frustration with the source material! And sometimes I read a comic and I have to write something because I'll go bug-nuts insane if I don't! (looking at current Venom)

🌿 how does creating make you feel?

It makes me feel everything! Sometimes rage! But mostly I do feel very happy when I create. It's satisfying. And there's nothing better than being up an hour past my bedtime, making final adjustments to the fic and last-minute edits before closing my laptop and going to bed, and HOPEFULLY waking up the next morning to comments left on my fic, sitting in my Yahoo inbox.

But my most favorite feeling is when I sit down and can just type like a BUNCH of words, like if I can crank out 500+ in one sitting that is the absolute best. That's when I know I'm on a roll. (I will do writing sprints to chase that feeling as much as I can lmao)

Ask me ((REAL)) fic questions!

#asked and answered

2 notes · View notes

erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?

Seperation

prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.

warnings: angst

if you like the fic - please reblog, like, comment, or come talk to me in my inbox!

I write for free so if you enjoy my fics please consider donating to support my writing on my kofi.

enjoy 😊

—

It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.

Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.

Ezra was another story.

YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.

He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).

It was at night time.

She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.

When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.

Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.

“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.

YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.

At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.

When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.

She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.

It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.

YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.

It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”

“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.

“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.

That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.

“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.

“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.

“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”

The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”

“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.

“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”

Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.

“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.

“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”

YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.

“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.

“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”

The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”

They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.

“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.

“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.

“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”

“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.

Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”

YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.

“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”

“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.

“Daddy, daddy, come on.”

Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”

And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.

“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”

And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.

In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.

Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.

He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.

“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.

Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.

At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.

She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.

By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.

The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“

He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”

“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”

Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.

“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.

Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”

“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.

“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“

“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.

“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“

“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.

Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.

He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.

“Please, let me apologize-“

“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.

They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.

He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.

He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.

Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.

Ezra must still be in bed.

“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.

“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.

“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.

Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”

“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme

“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.

“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”

Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”

He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”

Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.

Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.

Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.

She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”

The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.

YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.

Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.

Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.

“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.

Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.

Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.

Just like before.

“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.

Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.

“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.

“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.

“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.

Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”

YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”

He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”

“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.

“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.

You were letting him suffer.

YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?

“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“

His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.

Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.

He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.

It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.

He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.

Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.

He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.

“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.

“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.

“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.

“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.

Harry nearly whimpers.

“Baby, please. We need to talk-“

“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”

Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.

“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.

She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.

“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.

“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.

“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.

“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.

The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”

Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.

He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.

“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”

“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.

Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.

“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.

“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.

Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.

YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***

Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.

“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.

He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”

The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.

When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.

Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”

“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”

Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”

YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”

Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”

He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”

YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.

“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.

“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.

“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.

Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.

Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.

As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”

They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”

“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.

The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.

How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.

Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.

She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.

Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.

By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.

“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.

“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.

That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.

Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.

When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.

They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.

And yeah, everything is okay after that.

They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.

(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)

2K notes · View notes

thatoneidiotdts · 3 years

Text

Sleeping (+morning routine) headcanons for some genshin boys

A/n: hello ladies and gentlemen I'm happy to announce that I may be back now that my life has decided to stop throwing endless shit at me. Now I also write for genshin so feel free to send asks in my inbox!!

Warnings: nightmares for xiao, favoritism in diluc's part, purposeful misspelling and slander in C*ilde's part,overall tooth rotting fluff

Zhong li

Sleeps like a rock (pun intended)

This man will not wake up unless there is an emergency

No matter how much noise you make or whatever is going on around him he'll stay there laying in bed completely silent

His breathing is so quiet you think he's dead half the time if not for his endless sleep talking

And you can actually have full on conversations with him while he's asleep

Also he sleeps in a solider position which leaves you to cling on him like a koala on a big ass tree

Sleeps in really soft bamboo pyjamas that you bought for him

Zhong li will only wake up at exactly 7:30 am no matter if it's a week day or a weekend/ his day off

He also doesn't stay in bed for more than 10 minutes unless as stated before its his day off and you aren't awake yet

The man will stay there taking in the sunshine rays from the window as he's looking at your peaceful face

After an hour or two hell rub your back and gently wake you up with forehead kisses while softly calling your name

When you finally wake up you usually start with the morning hygiene and whatnot

Also he will ask you if you want to take a morning bath together but absolutely respects you decision if you won't and you don't need to even give him a reason you declined in the first place but will make sure you know he loves you no matter what

After that he will sit down with you and drink tea and have breakfast with you for the next two hours

It's the only reason he wakes up so early

T̵̻̦̥͌͝e̸̟̗̮̮͌a̷̙͕͉̿̍͝

After that he goes to do his usual shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor

Venti

Menace to society

He either sleeps sprawled out in a starfish position with his arm and leg over your body or in a fetal position with his face buried in your breasts/chest

He usually sleeps in your clothes or in his everyday clothes

His little snores are super cute tho

Venti's snoring isn't super loud, it's actually really quiet but still there

Since he's a bard he stays at the Angel's share until it closes which is usually very late into the night so he sleeps until like 2pm

He isn't a heavy sleeper so you usually accidentally wake him up if you have some errands to run early in the morning

Venti will cling to you and pretend that he's asleep so that you can stay in bed with him

After like 20 minutes of this he finally let's you go and makes you promise him that you'll be back quickly

When you returned to your shared house from doing commissions you found him still sleeping in the bed so you quietly took a shower and snuggled in with him for another hour or two

After he finally wakes up for real this time he has breakfast lunch with you and goes off to Angel's share but not before giving you a thousand kisses

Kaeya

He's sleep schedule is ON POINT

He always gets back from Angel's share at exactly 1:00am, showers, eats and does his skin care routine and gets in bed around 1:30am

He also wakes up at exactly 9am but stays in bed until ten

He trashes through the night, he also talks in his sleep but it really weird and it's mostly things that are in English but you can't understand them at all

Kaeya is also a blanket snatcher and will snatch your blanket if you aren't holding it tightly

I feel like he also sleeps with socks on but has a few special pairs of socks that have some cute patterns that he would rather be caught working with the fatui by his own brother than wear them outside once

Also sleeps in silk pyjamas, doesn't care if the cotton ones are easier to breathe through, he likes the feeling of silk on his skin

Kaeya loves his personal space and he doesn't like to be touched while he sleeps but makes up for it when he's awake but still in bed

The only exception is when it's cold outside, I headcannon he's naturally cold and he doesn't like it at all

His morning routine is 90% of him taking care of his face and showering

His skincare routine is also more expensive than some people's houses so don't touch his products plz

Kaeya will gladly teach you the basics of skin care and will buy you your own products that thinks will suit your skin better

He's also almost late to work every day so every day you see him put on his shoes calmly, take in a deep breath and then he kisses you goodbye and runs off like a mad man in order to get to the headquarters on time

Diluc

He has so much unprocessed trauma I would be surprised is sleep schedule is anything but a mess

Diluc doesn't sleep a lot, he would have a normal sleep schedule but since he has a lot of stuff to do all the time it stops him from sleeping property

Not only does he work as a bartender at Angel's share when Charles can't he also works as the Mondstat's one and only Dark Night Hero

He usually comes home around 4 or 5 am and will only sleep until like 8 and you will have to force him to have a nap in the afternoon

Also he sleeps in his everyday clothing and he's sometimes too tired to even take his coat off

Diluc sleeps on his stomach which causes him to have back and neck problems but it's the only way he can actually fall asleep

He's a really light sleeper which also adds up to his sleeping problem

Also he snores loudly, like really loudly, and he only snores at night for some weird reason

You discovered that because one day you accidentally woke up at like 6 am and you couldn't fall back asleep because of his loud snoring but you didn't dare to move since you knew how little rest he gets

He's not a morning person at all, if he didn't hate alcohol, he would be the person that chugs half a bottle of vodka in the morning just to keep him awake

Diluc usually starts his morning off with some personal hygiene and then starts doing the endless paperwork without even having breakfast or anything to drink

So out will have to force him to eat and drink so that he doesn't pass out from work

On the rare days he doesn't have any work to do he usually sleeps them off to make up for the time he didn't sleep

Albedo

Chalk boy over here also has a terrible sleep schedule

He's not really forcing himself to stay up but rather doesn't realize how late it is

You will have to pull him out of his work in order for him to go to sleep

Albedo has a special pair of pyjamas that he wears when he's sleeping and he only wears them because for his last birthday Klee has given him a pair of pyjamas that were originally grey but she hand painted them herself with the help of Jean and Lisa and he's been sleeping in them ever since

And when i say every day I mean every day

But don't worry he hand washes them every two days and takes special care of them in order to not wash of the fabric paint

His snores are also really quiet and quite cute, I recommend commenting on that if you wanna see him blush ^-^

Albedo usually sleeps on his stomach but unlike Diluc he is small enough to not crush you under his weight so he usually sleeps with his head on your stomach or buried in your neck

Pease touch his hair he melts when you do

Albedo can sleep for a looonng time if you don't wake him up so he relies on you to wake him up or else he'll spend the next 16 hours in bed sleeping without a care in the wold

When he wake up he does his usual morning routine, which is usually a quick shower, breakfast, brushing his teeth and his hair out, and then goes off to work

He will absolutely make you have a nap with him in the afternoon or whenever he feels tired

Xiao

He doesn't sleep much, hell I don't this man sleeps at all sometimes

Adepti don't really require sleep or food like normal humans do

It took a lot of time for him to trust you enough to sleep besides him

Xiao doesn't feel safe while sleeping at all, he also fears that his karmic dept might take affect on you so he keeps his distance for quite some time

For the first month or two he would wear his normal every day clothes but then you gift him a cute plain green onesie and at first he straight up refused to put 'that thing' on but he gave in and hasn't sleep in anything else since

At first he would be the big spoon so that he can protect you from any harm but when you spooned him for the first time he felt so safe and warm he never wanted to let go of that feeling ever again

After that he would ask you under his breath if you could spoon him more often, you barely understood what he was saying but perfectly understood what he wanted and needed.

He also regularly has nightmares which causes him to trash around and maybe whack you in the face once or twice but you're quick to calm him down

Xiao never really realized that he was hurting you until he gently hugged you and you winced because he accidentally touched the small mark he left the previous night after having another nightmare

Doesn't touch you or sleep with you for a week after that, he already hurt you enough but you don't really care so you coaxed him into sleeping with you again very easily since he missed your warmth a lot

He doesn't really have a morning routine but he does wake up every morning before you so that he can teleport to the Huaguang Stone Forest to pick some Qingxin flowers for you

He's also gets back into your arms right before you wake up so that it seems like he never left in the first place

But you always notice the new fresh bouquet of the beautiful white flower on your desk and thank him for it

T*rtaglia

Listen here ok I'mma be real with y'all

Turbulence sleeps exactly one hour less than normal people but makes it seem like he gets like 2 hours of sleep per night

"Ugh I didn't sleep last night at all😩😏" Like bro stfu

He also makes jokes about sleeping so little because he was with you last night or that he was training so hard or doing a mountain of paper work

While you know damn well he was with you entire night sleeping like a baby right by your side

He sleeps naked solely so that one day when a hypothetical intruder gets into your home he can scare them off by yelling at them while being completely naked 💀

But he will put a pair of pyjamas on if you're uncomfortable

He mostly sleeps on his side because he needs to hold something while he's sleeping, if you aren't with him that night he will hug your pillow and sleep like that

Tagliatelle also doesn't like to sleep when in a cold room so he will have one of those water bottles that people use for back pain and will put one in the pillow he's holding and two in the blanket itself

He's totally a morning person and has no problem with getting out of the bed in less than like 10 minutes unless you ask him not to

If he has a day off he won't sleep in that much but he will curl up beside you and 'accidentally' place his head on your boobs/chest

Y'all saying Terrorism is the caring older brother? WRONG he's the forgotten middle child. we ofc know about Tonia, Anthon and Teucer but he also has two older brothers and at least one older sister

I feel like he's the middle child that had to take all the responsibilities when the older three/four moved out

So yeah he can make a damn fine breakfast for you without skipping a beat

But don't let me even start on his personal hygiene

Like shower are fine ok and he baths once a week only because he can but like

I know damn well his back teeth are ROTTING

He only uses mouthwash and brushes the front and bottom part of the teeth so that they look presentable meanwhile his back teeth got their souls sucked out

Moving on from that Tellurium can't really spend the whole morning with you so he will have to leave you late in the morning.

Coffee? :>

3K notes · View notes

professorrw · 3 years

Text

Don't Fake It

marvel masterlist

Pairing: female reader x Peter Quill

Request: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. Then after, she apologizes for faking it and it gets kinda fluffy because hes like “hey, its not good for me if you’re not having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if i’m that desperate.”

Warnings: smut, 18+, fluff, faking an orgasm, protected sex, rough sex

A/N: Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

Sleep was calling your name, digging its claws into you and dragging you into the dark depths of slumber. But there was something stopping it. That thing was Peter. He was wide awake and his sex drive was in full throttle. You weren’t feeling up to it though. The long day at work had taken a toll on you, and the only thing you wanted to do was go to sleep.

You loved Peter, everything about him. You didn’t want to deny him sex, especially when he was being so sweet about it. Your back was to him so he could cuddle you while you slept, but he started to kiss your shoulders and the part of your back that was exposed by your tank top.

“Mmm what is it baby?” you asked groggily.

“I want you,” he replied unashamedly. You could feel Quill shifting his weight behind you. He was peering over your shoulder, trying to look at you. He had missed you all day and you were finally home. What he didn’t know was that you were tired, and not in the mood.

“Oh really?” you mumbled.

“Mhm, I missed you today.” You couldn’t see him but by his sweet tone of voice you could tell that he was sticking his bottom lip out and giving you puppy dog eyes. You smiled and turned around, cupping his face in your hands.

"You know you're adorable right?" you teased.

He smiled, "I know, that's why you can't resist all of this." He wiggled his eyebrows, making you laugh. He was just too cute. You didn't want to tell him no.

When you stopped laughing he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss quickly elevated, his hand snaking up your tight shirt and pressing heat against your lower abdomen. While your eyes were closed, sleep called your name once more, but you ignored it.

Peter pulled back for a minute and reached over to the night stand. He grabbed a condom and pulled his boxers down and put it on, tossing the wrapper back onto the table. He switched positions and crawled on top of you. His face drew closer and he kissed you while he pulled down your sweat shorts.

He got the lube too and squirted some on his covered dick and rubbed the leftovers around near your entrance. With dick in hand he guided his length into you, easing it in as to not hurt you. He let out a long sigh when he got to moving. At least he was feeling good, you thought. Peter was making you feel good too, but you were so tired that if it weren't for the movement you would have fallen asleep.

The pleasure wasn't building like it usually did. You wanted to cum, you wanted to show Peter that he was doing a good job. But you weren't feeling it, and you knew you weren't going to cum. You didn't want to hurt Peter's feelings so as he reached his peak speed and his head lolled back you moaned extra loud, "I'm gonna cum!"

"Me too," he groaned back. His hips pounded into you and his balls slapped against you as he came in his condom. You kept on moaning a little, acting like you had actually cum too.

Peter slowed then pulled out. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and went to the bathroom to clean up. He went to take his condom off and realized there was no cum on the outside of it. You said you had cum, but there wasn't anything other than lube on there. Quill didn't want to assume you had faked it, but he didn't want to ask right away either.

He threw the condom away and went back to your bedroom. You were already out cold, and when Peter saw he sighed and crawled into bed, completely dejected. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t make you cum, and a little annoyed that you wouldn’t just tell him. But he let those thoughts drift away so he could fall asleep.

The next morning you woke up early for work again. Peter was still asleep so you didn’t wake him and instead went about your morning routine. Three minutes before you needed to leave you wrote a little note on the refrigerator for him, “I hope you slept well hunny, I’ve already left for work by the time you wake up but I just wanted to say I love you and I’ll see you later <3”

About an hour later Quill rolled out of bed and dragged himself into the kitchen. He wasn’t a morning person by any means. The coffee machine beeped and he pushed himself off of the counter to pour himself a cup. He set his mug down on the counter and went to the refrigerator to get milk and creamer. Your note, which he noticed just then, made him stop mid pull. He shut the refrigerator and took the note off so he could get a better look at it. A tired smile spread on his face.

Then he remembered last night. It was odd that there wasn’t anything on his condom, and you didn’t get up to clean yourself off right after he did. Now that he thought about it, you went straight to sleep. How unusual. He pushed the thought aside and decided he would bring it up later. It wasn’t making him mad, but he was a little wounded that you had faked it, or if you even did fake it.

Lucky for you, work was slow and you got off early. On the way home you picked up lunch for you and Peter. It was in a way an apology for your tiredness last night and faking your orgasm, whether he knew about it or not.

Keys jingling together you unlock the door and step in with takeout in hand. “Quill I’m home!” you shout.

He power walks out of the bedroom and just about tackles you into a bear hug. You giggle and kiss his stubbled cheek. “I missed you,” you say into his ear.

“I missed you moooore,” he replies. “How was work?”

“Better than yesterday, I’ll tell you that. Plus I got off early, so that’s even better. I get to spend more time with you.” You kiss his cheek again and he smiles before setting you back down. The food gets set on the kitchen counter and you pull out the chinese you got. You hand Peter his usual order and take out your own.

There’s only the quiet sound of eating for a few minutes before Peter says something. “Y/N I need to ask you something.”

You look over at him. He rarely calls you by your first name. That means he’s being serious. “What is it?”

He wants to ask about your orgasm but you’re right in the middle of eating and he doesn’t want to interrupt you. He can just ask later, he thinks to himself. He thinks of something else to ask and quickly thinks of, “Can you pass me some soy sauce?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him but hand him a few packs and go back to eating.

Later that night, a few hours later, you were laying in bed doing nothing in particular. Thoughts of last night were filling both your heads. Peter was set on trying to ask you about it, and you were set on trying to make up for it.

The both of you were sitting up in bed and you set your phone down on your bedside table and leaned over. You set a hand on Peter’s bare chest and he instantly stopped what he was doing. His eyes shot to yours, a sly smile on your face. He could tell exactly what it was you wanted.

“Peter,” you whispered against his lips. Your mouth was an inch away from his and your eyes were drifting between his and his lips. He parted his mouth and leaned forward, capturing you before you could make a move. You were trying to take the lead, but he wasn’t letting you.

He overpowered you, flipping you around and putting you on your knees. His bulge was against your ass and he was rubbing circles against it. The intensity he was showing was like nothing before. Whatever it was that was riling him up you needed to find out. It would have to wait until later though, because your panties being dragged down your thighs was the only thing you could think of.

A condom and lube had already been taken out of the drawer, and Peter was putting them on. The room was silent other than the rustling of sheets and your heart hammering in your chest. Then there was the squirting of the lube and you knew it was about to come. The cold goo was smeared on your folds and slightly inside of them by Quill’s rough fingers.

His tip, covered by a condom, was right at your entrance in a second, and in just one more, it was inside you. Your whole body was pushed forward with the force that Peter was thrusting. You were moaning and panting, and he was smiling between his own groans. His goal was to make sure you never had to fake an orgasm again. And with the way things were going you wouldn’t need to.

“Oh- Oh my god!” The way he was slamming into you was so quick and hard the pressure inside of you was building like a balloon being blown up.

His hands were holding you and keeping you from falling over. If they weren’t you would have smacked into the headboard. You couldn’t stay on your hands any longer, you dropped to your elbows, back making a beautiful arch for Quill.

The unbearable speed was tiring Quill out, but it was also making his orgasm come even quicker. He grabbed your shoulders, giving himself even more leverage to thrust with.

Your knees were trembling, jelly below you. But you wouldn’t have to hold that position for much longer. That balloon inside you popped like too much air had been blown into it. Your walls clenched around Peter’s cock, and the cum he was searching for yesterday covered his condom. He kept his pace, legs killing him and pelvis hitting your ass.

He let out a loud groan, and cum leaked and squirted from his tip. He let go of your shoulders, seeing a red handprint there. He pulled out of you, your cum dribbling out when he did. He smiled, satisfied that he had done what he set out to do.

Your lower half ached and you all but collapsed onto your pillows. You flipped over and saw Peter above you, buttcheeks against the heels of his feet and catching his breath. You laughed just a little and he opened his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“That was something else,” you admitted with a smile.

“Good.” He crawled onto his stomach and laid next to you with his head on his arms. You scooted over closer to him, laying on your back with your hands set on your stomach.

“Y/N,” he sat up, “last night,” he started.

“I already know what you’re going to say. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was just super tired last night and I didn’t want to deny you.” You looked down at your stomach but Peter turned your face back to his with his thumb.

“It’s okay, really. I’m sorry I didn’t catch that you weren’t in the mood. If you ever don’t want to do stuff just tell me okay? I won’t be upset. Besides, it’s not good for me if you aren’t having as much fun as I am. I have a right hand if I get that desperate.” He waved his right hand and grinned.

You giggled, “I promise I won’t do it again.”

601 notes · View notes

camslightstories · 3 years

Text

Tolerate It - Part 13

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers. Female Reader.

Notes: Hey! I hope you guys are doing great and if you are not I promise things get better. I’m sorry I haven't updated but its just work and home are being hectic but I’m trying to get everything in track again. This chapter took an awfully long time write, i hope you guys like it!

My inbox is open for suggestions, recommendations, questions, and more. If any of you need help I will be honor to help you, always! Please fill my inbox with theories, comments and more i wanna hear what you guys think of the story! Hope you have a great day!

Taglist: @multi-images @captain-josslett @aznblossom @venteen @coxmicbabygirl @lezzzbehonesthere

The smell of fries and burgers invaded your nose as you sat on the floor, glancing at your sore hand. Your legs extended on the floor as you held your head against the column of the place. The uncomfortable ache on your hand had seemed to increase by the second, as you sat down.

Confusion was the main thing in your head, the confused heavy feeling in your chest when you close your eyes, the twisted and ached void confusing you when reality sets in. It felt like a war between your mind and heart that neither of the two you understand. It felt like the reasons that your brain had were now gone, the reason part of feeling nonexistent.

“Didn't think I would see you so soon” You claimed when you felt the presence of the brunette behind you. Two bags in her hand as the archer sat beside you.

Thea replied teasingly, and flirtatiously grabbing fries from her bag, after hitting you softly in the shoulder. “Neither did I, princess”

“Thanks” You whispered as you started to eat, both of you sharing a knowing and somewhat comforting. The Queen woman smiled and kept silent giving you a nod.

Thea had known you for a long time, but not until three years ago she saw you as her older brother’s best friend. She and Talia had taught every skill, you needed and wanted to learn. She had seen you put all of your anger everywhere you could. You were there subtly with alcohol after every break-up and make-up she had with Roy, showing your care as you sat with her drinking in silence until she couldn't anymore.

The small creek sound of the door took both of your attention. Your mother stood silently with a white medical kit in her hand and an understanding expression on her face. You glanced at the brunette beside you, meeting her glance. A small spark in her eyes which you had never noticed before, you stopped in your way to comment on it when you heard the knowing clearing throat of your Mother.

“Can I come in?” The Queen woman smiled reassuringly before leaving the room. Your mother stood at the side of the door, watching curiously and carefully before speaking.

You looked up and met her eye glance, giving her a small nod as you spoke almost inaudible. “Sure”

Your mother had been making the small notes, and remainders when she saw you. She couldn't lie about the fact that her heart joined in joy and broke in less than 24 hours. It had been difficult to maintain a straight face when your oldest sister called her explaining the situation, letting her know and Jeremiah that after days of trying, they were the last option to bring some feelings to you.

She saw your father way too comfortable yet nervous when they got the news, the trip had been too questioning and secretive that she suspected something had happened with the two of you. But seeing you with her own eyes as you stood in the room with void eyes, and rage protecting your walls.

The complete silence from your party told her more than you knew. The isolation, the hidden pain, the calm and silence. It all reflected in one thing and it was you trying to understand your feelings, your world, yourself. It had happened when your dad had supposedly died. The heavy feeling in her chest grew as she sat beside you, while you stared at the wall quietly debating with your thoughts and feelings.

Flashback - February 2005

You sat in the backyard of the house, dressed in black attire. Your eyes watching over the waves as they ended in the sand. The way the breeze moved the palms and softly touched your face. Your hands gripping the blanket covering you.

You waited for everything to process in, you waited to wake up, you waited for him as you walked down the stairs that morning, you waited for your sisters to tell you it was a lie, you waited for your mom to serve his favorite lasagna as he came back home, you waited for the sound of cheer when he and your oldest sister finished repairing another part of the old car, you waited for him and Kara coming back from the forest at night after watching the stars, you waited for him to sit on the small bean bag of your bedroom as you played him something new in your instruments, you waited for the loud laughs and scolds that would come after you and your sisters would create an eating contest ending with Kara smiling proudly as you and Alex throw up, you waited for the ‘pizza and tacos night’ where the five of you somehow cooked without burning the kitchen down, ending with a marathon of movies and smiles on everyone faces. But it never came.

The distinct voices from the house gained your attention as they felt closer. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the waves failing in the attempt. Turning around to see both of your sisters standing side by side as one of your family members expressing their condolences to them. Kara seemed to keep it together as she nodded shyly, while Alex clenched her jaw giving a small thanks before walking away, your blonde sister watched the redhead walk away before looking at the floor excusing herself too.

You looked away back to the beach, before deciding to get up and walk down the small hill entering the beach. Taking off your shoes, you put them at the side of the beach entrance before wrapping the blanket tightly around you. The voices began to zoom out and the sound of the ocean began to fill your ears. The soft sand on your feet as you walked closer to the shore felt grounding. The soft breeze that moved your hair out of control felt comforting as you sat down.

Burying your feet in the sand as you closed your eyes trying to remember something, to have something to hold on to. It felt weird, out of place, like something was missing. Your mind tried to wrap up with the fact that your father was dead but even if you knew what was happening, you still had questions. Sitting on the sand, you stared blankly at the ocean, as the waves came, as the breeze moved the palms and touched your cheeks, as the soft salty smell invaded your nose, and the coldness of the day began to increase.

It was like a debate between what you wanted to believe and what was happening. There were running thoughts in your head that made you feel exhausted. It was unpleasant and even tiring to think of how this event would change your and your family's life. You avoided the thought as much as you could, wishing and hoping to wake up from the nightmare but it was real and as much as you didn't want to accept it, your father was gone, and he was not coming back.

You didn't even realize when the sun that was high in the sky had come down and reflected in the ocean, you didn't feel the breeze and air get heavier or the way the only thing illuminating the night was the light bulb you dad put at the entrance of the beach.

It felt like time went in seconds, long seconds that you wished to take back and at the same time to move faster. It wasn't easy, it didn't feel easy, and the hole in your heart was unmistakable. You weren't a person who liked change, nor a person who easily understood what was going on around you.

Sure when Kara came into the family, it was like the missing piece. It didn't take you long to warm up to the blonde, but she was suffering from the loss of her planet so you stayed behind the doors and waited the right moment to comfort her and make her as welcome as you could. You saw her hesitate when she was doing something that would make her happy, you saw her doubt herself as Superman came into the news, you saw her shed tears when she tried to find where Krypto would be.

You tried constantly to win her affection, her trust, her intelligence, and more but you couldn't make her happy if she didn't heal. So you stayed awake during the night waiting to comfort her, you played with melodies on the piano so she could have a similar bed song as she had in Krypto, you ran as fast as you could after school to help her with her English or to watch and sing along with Wizard of Oz. You keep trying and trying even though she was legally your sister, you wanted to have a connection with her just like you did with Alex. So when the blonde the morning of your birthday hugged you and in English told you, you were her sister and she could be prouder than to call you that, you shredded in tears hugging her closely.

But it was different, everything was different, it felt different, it sounded different, it even tastes different. There was a silence between your family, Alex kept her feelings inside and bottle them in trying so hard not to break, mad at the world, mad at dad, at you, at your mom, even Kara. Your mom was understanding but quiet, she tried to be your and your sister's rock during the day but at night you can hear her crying her heart out. Kara kept silent, mad at the world for taking another person from her, holding you close trying to be helpful as much as she could even if she was hurting as much as she was when she first landed. And you, you kept quiet, trying to understand, trying to find the lie, trying to reach and understand your feelings but couldn't. So you waited for the time to pass by and for things to get in order, just like your dad used to say ‘time heals things, everything gets better with time’ but as the words rounded your head you couldn't feel more than the biggest lie of the world.

Flashback ends

The soft wrap with alcohol against your knuckles ached as your mom determinately disinfected your hand. You felt her eyes constantly glancing at you when you kept silent, trying to ignore the slight throb from the small wound in your hand. You glanced from the wall you stared continuously into her eyes, before speaking. “I tried”

“I know sweetie” Eliza looked up while finishing wrapping her hand before speaking in a motherly tone. As soon as she heard you talk she knew, she knew what you meant. Just your silence gave it away, she knew your conflicted feelings weren't going to help now and they didn't before, but what scared her was how long you were going to take to heal, to flash a familiar smile, to laugh until you couldn't anymore, to look at the eyes of your significant other, to sign with your older sisters until either of your throats wouldn't give more.

Fighting back the tears your eyes had swollen, you claimed again making eye contact with your mother, your mother's eyes redating with comfort and sadness as she looked at you. You clenched your hand into a fist but immediately opened it again when you felt the strong throb in your knuckles. “I tried, and it didn't work out. It didn't do anything”

“Healing isn't about not feeling sad or feeling numb, it's about letting in, letting go, and finding yourself again but you can't do it if you are not ready for it” She answered brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

And the understanding in her eyes and voice made you doubt, as your feelings started to fall in place. Heartache, anger, sadness, disappointment, pain, and more began to feel your chest and your mind as you took the words of your mother in. Your now bloodshot eyes looked away from her as you felt your lip tremble.

You nodded quietly, and before you knew. You threw your arms around your blonde mother, tears furiously leaving your eyes as she soothed you, with comforting and reassuring words. Your head was hidden in her neck as you cried your eyes out.

The feeling of heartbreak and pain overwhelming you as everything started to come down on you. And you wanted to cry, for minutes, for hours, days, weeks, even years. Because somehow after everything you still didn't feel enough, you felt everything you did was wrong, that you could have been better and you could have changed differently, closing your eyes you wished for it to be gone, but deep down you knew it wasn't.

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

Flashback - February 2005

“Please just make it stop, mom. Please, it hurts so much”

You don't know how it happened or how long you had been furiously crying until you stared at the small seashells in the sand getting wet thanks to your tears. The once beige shell now was white. Grabbing the seashells from the sand, you started to throw them angrily at the water.

The sound of the rock making contact with the water somewhat comforted you, longing to throw everything away for it, for the broken shells to absorb your problems and leave with it. Soon enough you fell to your knees sobbing out. As the night lighting shot in the ocean, as the ocean tide had gone up, the once breeze became violent air.

One second you were crying furiously on your own, and the next you sobbed into your mother's arms, as she reassured you that everything was going to be okay. You gripped her shirt hugging her closely before looking up to her, touching your chest as your bloodshot eyes glanced in hers.

Your lip trembling from the cold and your sobs, her heart broke, even more, when you hid in her neck which made her look up as she soothed your back. She was trying so hard to keep it together for you and your sisters but the moment she caught sight of Kara and Alex with blankets around themselves walking straight to where the two of you sat, made her break into tears.

You looked up from your mother's neck as you felt a hand rubbing your back and others grabbing your hand softly in reassurance. Each one of them by you and your mother's side, your cries had slowed down when your redhead sister asked with a crack in her voice to your mother. “Are we gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, we will be but it will take time to heal, we can't rush it, we have to be ready”

“We are going to be okay” Kara claimed as a statement of reassurance after your mother responded, but her trembling lip, bloodshot eyes, and the high tone she used made her sound more like a prayer than anything.

Your mother reassured, making you three nod slowly before falling into a reassuring silence. “Until then we have each other, and one of the most precious things you girls are going to have in your life is each other, your family.”

Flashback ends

Unknowingly to you, your sisters had been watching from the door the moment Kara heard your heart spike. Tears in their eyes as they watched your mother rocked you slowly as you cried. Silent sobs and bitten lips coming from them as they stopped each other from walking into the room.

Alex kept her jaw clenched as her hands gripped each other hard as she tried to keep the tears inside. The redhead felt responsible for your crying, the urge to run in and comfort you debating her self-control. Doubts, questions, and more gained in her head as she saw you sob into your mother's arms, rage slowly consuming her emotions as the protectiveness over you began to show up.

Kara let out silent sobs, with her hand on top of her mouth. Her bloodshot eyes and red cheeks had overwhelming tears. The superheroine hated herself, as she felt responsible for your crying. She just wanted to hold you in her arms and tell you everything was going to be just fine, she wanted to see your sunny smile when you saw her or the bad jokes and puns you used all the time, she wanted you, she wanted her little sister but a part of her told her you needed the same space she once received from you.

The two of them standing next to each other with broken hearts and tears in their eyes, a small sense of hope in their chest as they watched the scene. Sharing a knowing, Alex came closer putting her arm around your blonde sister’s shoulder before speaking.

“Everything is gonna be okay, we are getting her back, I promise,” She said quietly reassuring Kara even when neither of them fully believe it.

#kara danvers x reader #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #supergirl imagine #alex danvers x reader #baby danvers

167 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Real Friends

Valkyrae & Reader (Male)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: SMAU, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following an accidental and not very consensual face reveal, Y/N’s dealing the sudden shift of the spotlight on him even more than it was before. Being the big deal he is on social media, the internet has every right to be freaking out. Luckily, he’s got a friend to help him cope with it all.

Requested by @iawaythrown Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for how long it has taken me to complete your request and post it but here it finally is. I’ve never written a SMAU before so this isn’t the classic SMAU format but I still hope you’ll enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

Imagine you end a toxic relationship of almost a year and go to bed feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted off you, like you can finally breathe properly and like you’re finally getting a taste of freedom. The very freedom you chose to lose by getting in the toxic relationship in the first place. Of course, I didn’t know it was toxic at the time, probably cause it wasn’t, but it gradually turned into a nightmare.

A nightmare that keeps haunting me even after I thought I had put an end to it.

Apparently, that was wishful thinking cause I woke up this morning to find an unbelievable number of notifications and messages from friends, family and my manager and associates. Being in the music industry as a faceless creator, I keep my circle tight and it only consists of people I can trust so to see them all freaking out at me at once, even the most level-headed ones, freaked me out too. Quickly, I opened the first notification I reflexively tapped on and it opened a post in which someone had tagged me.

A picture taken of me while I was asleep, no doubt one taken by my ex. That being said, I think we can all have a guess at who posted it in the first place. I didn’t listen to my manager when he told me to not allow anyone I trust 1000% into my inner circle. I was foolish and at the peak of my career, feeling on top of the world and feeling invincible which was rare for me. I’ve always been insecure about many things in my life, growing up with a lot of judgy people made me be that way. Not to mention that I didn’t want to be the victim of the internet’s racism either. People turn a blind eye most of the time, but it’s still there, it still exists and looms over all social media platforms, disturbing people’s peace left and right. You see, I didn’t want people to have an opinion of my art based on my appearance or associations with other creators. I’m pretty good friends with many content creators, especially in the gaming industry, but I’ve never wanted to be put in a box as one of the many friends of someone famous. I made a name for myself without anyone knowing who I am exactly.

And now they all know because of this photo that my ex sent to float down the rivers of hungry social media:

Damn am I gonna get an earful from my manager or what. It’s still rater early though and I’m really not about to deal with this drama on a caffeine-free brain so if there are any calls, emails or messages that need answering - and yes, there are PLENTY of them - they’ll all have to wait until I feel like dealing with them. I’m glad I don’t have to keep up this unbothered charade at home since I live alone cause I seriously don’t feel ok with this. I mean, I could probably report it, but what use would that be when my brand now has a face and a huge chunk of my privacy has already surfaced against my will.

As I sit in my kitchen, sipping my coffee, I finally gather the nerve to at least scroll through the notifications that I’ve received. Fans reaching out, relatives, friends, pissed off people that are there just to exist and try to disturb my peaceful existence but all they’re gonna get is a hard DELETE from me. I have offers on top of offers for modeling pending, waiting on my response. I’ve never considered it, being a faceless creator and all, but my manager will definitely want to milk some cash from this too. That thought makes me sigh in defeat. I have no one to blame but myself for trusting my ex. No one made me do it, no one made me let them in, but I still did, fucking myself over insanely. Just like they’ve now fucked me over.

Amongst the sea of notifications and yet to be opened messages, one in particular stands out and makes me do a double take. It’s a message from my friend Rae - Valkyrae, as she’s known online. She’s one of those gamer friends I mentioned earlier, probably the one I’m closest with. Her and I talk on the regular so seeing a message from her in my inbox is nothing unusual so I wonder why that was the one that stuck out to me. Regardless, that’s the only one I feel like opening and replying to at the moment.

V ~ Hey Y/N, you doing ok? This all must be really hard on you so don’t feel obligated to reply. Do so when you can or want to. I’m here if you wanna talk

Of course Rae would be the one to know how I truly feel in a situation like this. I can act and cover up all I want but she knows exactly what’s underneath the surface of my façade. That third eye friends have for each other, it’s incredible.

Me ~ Doing ok. Wasn’t expecting to wake up to this but now that millions of people know what I look like it feels oddly bittersweet, you know? Like I don’t have to go out of my way to hide anymore but I’m also gonna miss that privacy I had while I was a phantom

Me ~ On the upside: people want me to be a model now XD

My message goes to Seen almost write away, the Typing icon appearing shortly after the messages were read. I wait for Rae’s reply, sipping my slowly cooling coffee with little interest due to how invested I am in our conversation. If there’s a person who can make light of this situation, it’s Rae, no doubt about it.

V ~ I know what you mean. It’s not gonna be easy to adjust to but you will get used to it eventually. I’m sure you’ll even grow to like it. Promise you, it’s not that scary to be exposed, there’s literal millions of people who support you wholeheartedly :)

V ~ Us, your friends, are here too! Never forget that, we’ve always got your back, Y/N!

V ~ Oh and you really should be a model! Whoever’s saying that has got the right idea. Maybe don’t fear this new change, but embrace it! Take this new turn in your life confidently. Sure, it was out of the blue, but do you really want the person who exposed you to feel the satisfaction of bringing you down? That doesn’t sound like you at all tbh

The epiphany strikes me as soon as Rae’s words sink in as I read them. She’s 100% right. The last thing I want is for my ex to think they’ve won. I refuse to give them the pleasure of tasting victory on the expense of my mental health and career progress. In fact, imma show them just how much they benefited me. But first...

Me ~ Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this eye-opener

Me ~ I owe you one <3

I sure as hell owe her one, but for now I have other battles to win.

Rifling through my gallery, I find one more recent picture and without a shred of doubt or hesitation, I go straight to Instagram to post it.

~ “Since y’all were curious...And since y’all wanna see me model, you’re welcome” ~

Within seconds likes and comments start flowing in like a riptide, taking over my phone that, despite being charged all night, is already at half of its battery life.

I refresh the page with the post to look at the new comments that have come through, all supportive and complimenting me, some are real thirsty and some are incredibly kind. And even in that sea, her comment still sticks out to me, making me grin like an idiot.

“That’s what I was talking about! Work it, Y/N!“

80 notes · View notes

solari-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Confide

🛑 WARNINGS: Language, mentions of blood. 🛑

✨ Requested by: @jackjawcaptain

✨ Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader

✨ Summary: Frank is having a bit of a hard time, and you're there to remind him that he can let go.

✨ Solari Says: This has been sitting in my inbox for some time friend, and it's about time that I put it out there. Enjoy! :>

Prompt -

Rose Quartz - Learning to trust again.

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE FRANK | MORE MARVEL | > MASTERLIST < |

He had pulled another disappearing act again.

Not that you could be any form of frustrated with him, Frank Castle always had something to do. Something in his head that he needed to work out--let it be with talking to Curtis or with the barrel of his pistol. You learned that rather quickly after coming into a comfortable relationship with him.

At least, you felt that it was comfortable. Frank had given signs that he was fighting with himself about it. Distant staring, averting eyes. You couldn't count his quiet nature, that's just how he had always been since you've met.

The only reason that you did not twist his arm about it was because Curtis had been the one to inform you that it was not your fault. That Frank had been through a lot of different things before finding you, stuff that made this sort of involvement a little more complicated. His deflection, his disappearances, were only reactionary to the constant battle that was happening in his mind.

So you were idly sitting on the sofa, twiddling your thumbs as you watched the different figures dancing across your screen. You couldn't remember what movie you put on, what exactly that you were doing in the living room rather than going to bed. You stretched out your hand, grasping your cell phone and pulling it up to take a look. You clicked the button on the side, waking up the screen to see what time it had been.

2:48am.

You sigh.

There were no missed calls. You knew that Frank occasionally had burners when he was on his trips, so something inside was hopeful that you would get a call from a mysterious New York area code. But when you saw nothing, your heart dropped a little bit.

You sigh again.

You decide to click off the screen of your phone and stand, coming to the conclusion that the background noise that the movie was creating wasn't helping your brain shut down. You always found it hard to, when Frank left without any warnings. You should've bothered Curtis before it got so late, maybe he'd seen Frank at some point.

You reach for the remote that had been next to your cell phone, pointing the black controller towards the screen and clicking the power button. It abruptly turns back, leaving your living space dark. You stand, but wait for just a moment so that your eyes could adjust to the darkness. Little by little, silhouettes of the surrounding furniture were tangible to you and you begin weaving around to approach the small hallway that led to your bathroom and bedroom.

You run a hand through your hair, and just before you turn the corner to your bedroom you hear a gentle knock on your front door.

You freeze, furrowing your brows and turning slowly towards it.

You approached quickly and quietly, and when you were against the door you peer through the hole to see who it had been.

On the other end, there was a figure in black clothes with his hands in his jacket pockets. They were quiet, shuffling their weight between their feet as they waited for some form of response from you.

When you didn't respond, however, they decided to speak.

"[Y/N]... It's me," they said simply, and the raspy nature of his tones filled you with some form of relief.

Frank.

You quickly unlock the door, pulling it open and meeting your eyes with his. "Frank. Where in the hell were you?"

"I-uh..." he averted his eyes downwards to the ground between his boots. Under the porch light, you could see a hint of discoloration on his black hoodie--something almost brassy.

He had gotten into an altercation.

"You...?" you try. crossing your arms.

"I had some business I had to finish," he answered simply. "I know you're... probably fuckin' pissed. I-I'm sorry for that."

Your expression softens, just a little, not really noticing that you had a tad bit of a frown in the first place. So you step back a couple feet, so that he had adequate room to file inside. "Come on. Let's get you out of that hoodie, I can see the blood when the light shines on it."

Frank nods his head slightly, shuffling his feet so that he could come in. Once he closes the door behind himself and locks it, he begins to pull his arms inside of his jacket to pull it over his head.

You watch him closely, as he drapes the fabric over his forearm gently and turns to you.

"Where did you want this..?" he asked quietly, his eyes flitting around the room as if something was going to jump out and bite him.

"Just go toss it in the hamper with the rest of my clothes," you say to him, moving to the side so that he could move past you to go to your bedroom.

Once you let him pass, you turn on your own heels and follow him. He pushes past the doorframe that led to your room, having no trouble navigating in the dark. You reach over once you get to your doorframe, flicking the light switch up so that your room bathed in light.

You could finally look at his face. There was a couple spots of dried blood on his knuckles, and on his jeans that he donned for the night. Ultimately, he had no scratch on him--which was a miracle considering how accident prone he usually was.

If you could even call it that.

"Where did you end up going, Frank?" you ask him, your voice soft so that he knew you weren't there to lecture him.

"I went to talk to Curt," he answered honestly, as he tossed his hoodie in the white basket hiding in the closet of your room. "Afterwards, we went to have a drink."

"And where does the blood come into play?"

"Someone decided they didn't want to shut their mouth," he sighed, turning around so that he could go sit on the edge of your bed.

"Frank, you don't do this without a reason... What did they say that had you so miffed, huh?"

"Bah, it's nothin', alright? Handled and done," he tried to avoid, waving it off.

As much as you believed the "handled" part of that sentence, something underneath the browns of his eyes led you to think that it was still sitting in his head. Writhing and endlessly taunting.

"Don't give me that shit, Frank," you tell him, moving so that you could sit next to him on the space that was left at the end of your bed. "You have to remember you're in a fuckin' relationship with me, man. I understand it hasn't been a thing for very long but... you also need to understand that I'm here for you. That I'll listen to anything that you feel that you need to talk about.

Whatever happened at that bar, it's eating at you. I know you well enough to tell the signs," you place a gentle arm around his waist, bringing him in a little closer.

He's silent for a moment, putting an arm around your shoulder and closing the gap of space that you both had between your bodies. You say nothing, feeling that he was sorting through his thoughts before he decided to speak once more.

"Did I ever tell you about Maria? My kids?" he asked quietly, staring at the floor of your bedroom.

"No," you answer.

"They were killed. All of them," he said quietly, causing a hole in your gut to begin to manifest. No wonder Curtis told you what he had. Why Frank was as reclusive as he was.

He lost his family. Nothing could ever heal you completely from that.

"Shit, Frank... I'm sorry," you say to him quietly, joining his gaze to the floor.

"Yeah... The douchebag at the bar overheard a something I said to Curtis and decided to open his fuckin' mouth," he informed. "When I told him to keep his mouth shut, he didn't. You can put together what happened."

"I'd kick his shit in too if I was you," you answered. "Although... that makes me wonder."

"Hm?"

"Why aren't you in the slammer?" you ask, as a way to take the topic off of his grief--even if it was just for a moment.

"I beat his ass away from prying eyes," he answered simply with a small shrug, earning a chuckle from you.

You push yourself up just a bit so that you could plant a kiss on his cheek, resting your face in the crook of his neck. "You know, Frank... telling me that shit... I know it must've been a lot for you to muster. Thank you..."

Frank hums a bit, rubbing your bicep with his hand gently. "It's something I have to learn how to do... If there's one thing I remember about being married to Maria, it's that playing cards close to my chest can be hurtful..."

"And you're completely right about that..." you agree, your finger dragging against his waist.

You notice in your peripheral that he was observing you. Focused, with a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. Before you could speak up about it, he drops his arm from around your shoulders.

"I'm tired," he says simply. "I'm gonna settle here tonight... if that's okay with you."

"Of course it is, Frank... I'm just glad to see that you're okay," you respond simply, smiling at him before standing.

You move yourself so that you could flick the light switch once more. You look over your shoulder at Frank, watching as the tension in his body slowly began to dissipate. A smile slowly stretches across your face.

And then you turn the lights out.

Marvel Tag List: @crimsonheart01 General Tag List: @sazafraz :|: @tsumethedrifter :|: @angelaiswriting

if you wish to be added to the tag list, please comment or message me!

#frank castle #marvels the punisher #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #solari writes things

74 notes · View notes