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the-hole-in-terzos-shoe · 7 months

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Call Me, Little Sunshine

For my Best Ghestie @mustluvecho 's BIRTHDAY!!!!! Everyone wish her a happy birthday even though I'm posting this hella late in the day! ❤️🎉🎂🎈💝💋🥰

Demon!Papa x GN!Reader

It's a bit Copia coded for my bestie Echo, but could be read as any Papa. Let me know which one you prefer to read it as 😉

TW: abusive boyfriend (mostly verbal, cussing, but he does push Reader at one point, and slam a door), demon stuff, haunting, night terrors, scratches on Reader's body, scary imagery, some light SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9k

EDIT: I wanted to add my bestie's amazing artwork!!!! She really beautifully captured the vibe I was going for 🥰

Please like and reblog her artworks for this fic here and here!

At first it started small: rapping on the window, a creaky door, faucets emanating a strange sulfuric odor. Typical household problems, you shrugged it off... But now there were other things happening, unexplainable things. The smoky apparition that you'd see out of the corner of your eye, always just out of sight; the claw marks on your back and legs; and the ice cold breath you feel at the back of your neck have you convinced that something is out to get you.

Having just moved in with your boyfriend of only a year, you sit in the kitchen one night unpacking dishes so you wouldn't have to eat off paper plates like you had the last few weeks. Maybe settling into the house would make these crazy illusions go away.

𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺. That's what your boyfriend calls all the things you see and feel and hear. But you don't feel crazy, and it feels real when you lie frozen in horror, watching the dark figure with tall golden horns and one glowing white eye stare at you from the foot of your bed. Sometimes it even dares to reach for you, perhaps if only you make your pounding heart jump up to your ears.

You're not sure what this thing is or why it's chosen 𝘺𝘰𝘶 to taunt... or to haunt, you don't really know. But your nights often end with you falling asleep from sheer exhaustion from the terror you feel as this entity makes itself more and more known.

"Fuck, baby, you've gotta get some help. These hallucinations are getting to be a bit too much for you to take, huh?" He says as you sob into your pillow in the early hours of the morning. Little did he know, at least to you, it was no hallucination. That 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 had grabbed your foot, pulling you harshly from your slumber as you flailed and screamed to stay on the bed.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a plate crashing to the floor at least a meter away from the table where it had been sitting. You jump up and shriek, half from shock, half in frustration.

"Dammit, babe, you can't be such a ditz! We payed a lot of money for you to go around being careless with the dishes," your boyfriend scolds you.

"At least I was trying to unpack," you argue, voice small.

"What was that?" The look on his face turns dark, as he approaches you again.

"I'm- I'm just trying to help," you squeak. Really you felt like it was the least you could do; you'd had a lot of trouble finding a job since moving out here, so you just try to help around the house as much as possible.

"Don't bother!" he shouts, shoving you back against the kitchen counter, "Especially if you're just gonna break shit!"

As you squeeze your eyes shut, cowering away from your boyfriend's outburst, you feel it: the now familiar ice cold breath right next to your ear. A sensation comes over you that almost feels like a hug, protective. Then, loudly, and without warning, all the cabinets in the kitchen burst open as a loud growl rips through the room!

You drop to your knees out of instinct, and the fear-filled tears start to flow. "What the fuck?! You crazy bitch!" your boyfriend cusses at you before storming out of the room. Of course he would blame it on you... A completely unexplainable event, and it's somehow your fault.

Unable to muster the concern to clean the kitchen, you just drag yourself up the stairs, heading to bed early for the night. At least you'll have a long time alone since you know your boyfriend will be up late into the night playing video games and yelling with his friends.

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

Lying there in the darkness save for some moonlight spilling in from outside, you can't help the feeling of guilt that overcomes your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣? 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

As you clutch your pillow to your chest, resting on your side in the fetal position, you fight back the tears once again. You can't wrap your head around all this--it seems like your whole world has been turned upside down and you hardly recognize the man you thought you were in love with.

Softly at first, you feel something touch you, like fingers sliding up your side. Automatically, you freeze, unable to fight off this entity that's been bothering you. Next, that hand slides down your thigh. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥? It certainly feels like one, five fingertips caressing you almost... sensually?

Climbing back up your thigh, this apparition grips your hip as you hear a sigh just over your shoulder. Then, you feel lips at your ear as claws dig into the flesh of your backside, not hard enough to hurt, but just right. An involuntary whimper leaves you as you feel yourself giving into this demon. You have to be hallucinating, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥? It feels just like someone pressed up behind you as hands roam your body bringing you--dare you say it?--pleasure.

𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰

Your whole body feels so warm, you could be on fire, but a special kind of heat settles between your legs. Hearing a deep rumble of a moan, you turn your head as much as your muscles will allow, seemingly still frozen to the spot; out of the corner of your eye, you make out the tall golden horns as the figure presses soft kisses to your jaw.

Breathing deeply, he stops, moving to hover above you. In the dark room, you can't see much besides the glimmer of gold metal, the silhouette of his form, a skeletal face, and that glowing white eye. He stares into your eyes, as if asking for permission, and when you continue to stare back, his hand starts to snake down to give you attention where you need it most.

Grunting and grinding your hips up against his fingers, you call out for him, "Papa..." You're not even sure how you know what to call him.

Suddenly, he turns his head as the door creaks open, and in an instant, he's gone, fading away like a fog.

Waking with a gasp, you find you're still on your side cuddling your pillow.

"Hey, it's okay," your boyfriend cooes, "it's just me. Go back to sleep." He comes over and pets your hair as you get your bearings straight.

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳...

Your boyfriend climbs in bed, throwing an arm over you and giving you a peck on the forehead, "Goodnight, babe."

𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, you think, as he drifts off, and you try to ingore the throbbing at your core.

• • •

The next time this presence--Papa--makes itself known, is when you're entering your room. It's broad daylight outside and all you can make out is a faint gray mist as you're slammed back against the door, the wood rattling loudly in the frame. But before you can freeze up from fright, your eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh leaves your chest as you feel the distinct peppering of kisses across the pulse points of your neck. It's a harsh juxtaposition to the way your boyfriend pushes you around.

Without realizing it, your hands are pinned in place as a haze of lust washes over you, and were it not for the entity bringing you immense and sudden satisfaction, you'd probably be aware of how crazy you look pinned to the door by seemingly nothing.

For the first time, you reach out, allowing yourself a touch. Your fingers are met with a clothed torso. Your run your digits down the buttons on his shirt, stopping at the bottom when his breath hitches as you slip under to tease the skin.

𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦?

Slowly opening your eyes, you're finally met with the sight of him. At first, you almost don't recognize him as the figure that's been haunting you every night for months. The striking black and white skull visage is unfamiliar to you, yet the horns and white eye, glowing even in the day time, give it away as him.

"Papa?" You properly meet his eyes for the first time; the left a ghastly pale, and the right a warm golden green. Softly, you brush your fingertips across his cheek, hardly able to believe he's real.

"Yes, my child?" He asks warmly, arms still embracing you.

Without another word, you lean up, pressing your lips softly to his. He returns the sentiment with a kiss so sweet, so seemingly full of emotion, you feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. As you sigh into the kiss, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips, cupping the back of your head to keep you in place. With him, you know if you wanted to pull away, he would let you--but you don't want to.

And you know you should feel guilty about your boyfriend in the next room, but you don't. He had proven time and time again that 𝘩𝘦 was the real horror in this house. So much so that he'd driven you into the arms of a demon.

You feel safer with some creature from hell than you do with your own boyfriend.

As if (ironically) summoned, here he comes, banging on the door to bitch about something else. "Babe! What are you doing in there? What all that moan-"

*SLAM!*

When he pushed the door open, a sharp burst of wind closes it again. Papa simply chuckles and looks down at you; it must've been him that closed the entryway.

Before you can ask, the door flies open again, doorknob slamming into the wall, "What the fuck was that?!" The man screams, locking eyes with you and then with the eccentric looking individual on your arm, "And 𝘸𝘩𝘰 the fuck is 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?!?!"

𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺

"Call me Mephistopheles. Or your worst nightmare, whichever you can actually pronounce," Papa speaks up. "Now, get away from her, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, or I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 make you regret it."

"Oh yeah? What's some loser in a cheap Halloween costume gonna do, huh?" your boyfriend retorts.

Rather than waste another breath on this loser, the demon transforms into, well... a demon: hoofed feet, black claws, fiery eyes, and all. What sounds like a choir of screeching tortured souls rings out, causing you to grimace and clap your hands over your ears.

After what feels like forever but was surely only seconds, the sound ceases, and when you open your eyes, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"Is-is he gone?" Your voice cracks, as your body folds against Papa's chest.

He catches you in another embrace, this time dark ashen black leathery wings cocooning around the two of you. "You won't ever have to worry about him again, amore."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.

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thebad-lydrawn-sanses · 2 months

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NIGHTMARE QUICK DUST IS DYING SLOWLY WHAT

Nightmare: I'M TRYING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, SHUT THE F-

#nightmare sans #lust sans #caps #yelling #tw yelling #yelling tw #<- extra set of tags because noot is YELLING yelling this time #anon i am SO sorry i really like drawing angry Nightmare #and he's super stressed so #i am making this poor man so very stressed #fear-originated anger is such a fun negative emotion to draw #queue

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p1nkshield · 1 year

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There was a post where someone wrote a few ideas for if the Waynes were on a reality tv show where he just removes one of his kids from an altercation like they were two fighting cats. Might I raise you batfam on patrol with this situation.

Jason: I'm gonna have to ask you to stop stepping on my toes while I'm doing your job Tim.

Tim: You're the one who couldn't keep the plan in that empty helmet of yours!

Jason: I had to think on my feet! It was your half baked plan that let him get away!

Tim: The only half baked thing around here are YOUR CROISSANTS!

Jason: *gasp* NOW THAT'S A LOW BLOW! SQUARE TF UP!

Tim: I AM NOT ABOVE BITING!

Batman hoists hood over his shoulder and begins walking away

Jason from Bruce's shoulder: YOU'RE NOT ABOVE MUCH SHORT STACK!

Later

Bruce: Work it out you two.

Tim: I'm sorry I insulted your bad croissants.

Jason: I'm sorry you're short.

Bruce: *sigh*

#batfam #jason todd #tim drake #batman #red hood #red robin #tw yelling #they both immediately calm down after the other leaves their line of sight #I'll stop posting about Bruce picking up his kids like a handful of grapes soon I promise

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cryptid-on-a-string · 8 months

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Neil Screamierega

#Neil cicierega #lemon demon #neilcic #youmacon 2012 #Tw yelling #flashing lights #<- just in case

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fourfoldtrap · 11 months

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Note to everyone, do not make a comic using a notes app with the bare minimum art tools for notes. Do NOT make a comic on a notes app that doesn't have a layer option.

If any of this is hard too understand please use the alt text I went into more description/details there!

part one | part two | part three (this one!!)

@nerves-nebula

#tm(n)t #tmnt mikey #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt fanart #tmnt comic #four’s art #cw blood #tw yelling #tw arguing

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zebulontheplanet · 3 months

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If I make a post that says “this and this people with this disorder are this”

Then DONT FUCKING SAY “this applies for people with xyz disorder too”

IM NOT TALKING ABOUT THEM. MAKE YOUR OWN POST. God this makes me so fucking angry.

#zebrambles #anger #just angry #tw yelling #tw caps #caps #yelling

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pileofpawns · 3 months

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“haha sonic fans can’t wait to see a little girl die on screen” MARIA’S DEATH IS AN INTEGRAL PART OF SA2’S MESSAGE ABOUT THE MILITARY BEING HORRIBLE AND CENSORING IT WOULD UNDERMINE IT ENTIRELY. THE SONIC MOVIES HAVE ALREADY GONE AGAINST’S THE FRANCHISE’S HISTORICALLY ANTI-COP VALUES BY MAKING SONIC’S ADOPTIVE HUMAN DAD A COP AND NOT TAKING THE VERY EASY PATH OF MAKING HIS CHARACTER ARC ABOUT HIM LEARNING THAT HE DOESN’T NEED TO BE A COP TO HELP PEOPLE, AND CENSORING MARIA’S DEATH WOULD LEAD THE MOVIES FURTHER DOWN THIS AWFUL PATH.

#reminder that the only blue life that matters is that of Sonic T. Hedgehog!#:))#plum rambles #rant #all caps #cw yelling #tw yelling #yelling #sonic #sonic movie #sonic movies #sonic cinematic universe #scu #sonic movie 3 #maria robotnik #acab

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tiktoksthataregood-ish · 1 year

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#video #tiktok #videos #meme #tiktoks #no cc #tw yelling

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running-on-a-broken-record · 8 months

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MadPat with Reader getting yelled at in the Pizzeria

Totally not based off my experiences with working at a pizzeria

Mad loves having you work with him. Even if it’s only part-time, every time you're at the pizzeria, he's in a noticeably better mood, and the other employees are grateful.

He sometimes just lingers around the area where you're stationed so he can watch you work.

He's in the kitchens, observing one of the new employees to make sure they're not messing up. It's his absolute least favorite part of owning the pizzeria, and he's definitely not pleased. All he wants is to go home and just spend time with you.

It's actually kind of surprising that he hears the commotion coming from the dining part of the pizzeria, because the kitchen is loud, but he does, and his attention is drawn to it.

He's mostly expecting it to be some child being scolded by its mother- god he hates those creatures- or some employee that dropped a pizza by accident.

But... he finds you, basically surrounded by three teenage boys.

They're yelling, and you're clearly not sure what to do, because your eyes dart between them and you're definitely scared.

"How hard is it to make a fucking pizza?" One of the kids, the one with the bad hair, yells directly at you.

He pulls you away from them quickly, now enraged that they would dare speak to you like that. It hurts him how you panic a little more at the feeling of being pulled away, but he hides you behind him, out of sight. You cling to him desperately.

"Is there a problem?" Mad says through gritted teeth, fighting each and every one of his demons to not murder the kids right there and then.

"We ordered a pizza ten minutes ago, where is it? It can't be that hard to make!"

"Did my employee warn you there would be a wait?"

"No!"

His eyes narrow. He's seen you work. You always let customers know about the wait for their food. So not only are these idiotic kids yelling at his best employee- his lover- but they've been ignoring you too. It's starting to look exponentially worse for them.

He wants to kick them out. The way you squeeze him a little tighter after the boy yells again only fuels that.

"Are we going to get our pizza or not?" Another one of the three teenagers says, frustrated for no reason at all, really.

He thinks for a second. "No. Get out."

"What?!" The teenagers all shout.

"You're banned from my pizzeria. Get. Out."

The boy with the bad hair scoffs. "Fine. Come on, guys."

The three boys and a fourth teen, a girl, leave. The girl, without the boys noticing, mouths an I'm sorry, and he nods slightly, turning to you to make sure you saw it too.

"Are you okay?" He asks as soon as they're gone, holding your shoulders.

You shaking from the encounter makes him furious, and once again he debates adding to the list of missing children in the pizzeria.

He doesn't even care when your shift ends, he's the owner of the place and he can do what he wants. He tells you to grab your stuff and clocks you out and takes you home.

He's literally so soft for the rest of the day, because seeing you being yelled at made him so angry and protective that he just wants to make sure you're okay :)

If you want to go back to work later that day, he'll probably let you, but he will keep a closer eye on you.

#I have never gone this feral for a post goddamn #I actually headcanon that Mad doesn't visit his pizzeria unless he absolutely has to #and that he prefers to stick to the paperwork side of things #but visiting is inevitable #anyway for the sake of this fanfiction we will pretend he works there frequently #i wrote this instead of sleeping #tw swearing #tw yelling #I feel bad putting a whole other story in the tags but I feel the need to mention all of my thoughts #“the kid with the bad hair” genuinely had the worst/weirdest hair I've ever seen in my life #tw mentions of murder #I want me a man who would murder annoying teenagers for me :(#madpat #game theory #fnaf the musical #matpat #matpat x reader

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stardustlixie · 7 months

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Apology-L.Mh

(warning: light breakdown, yelling, mention of past trauma and past toxic situations, crying, glass falling and breaking, Minho is lowkey mean in the starting, this has no plot, it's just a braindump please don't take this seriously OR judge my personality based on this)

You heard him close the door to your apartment, his footsteps sounding heavier than they did usually. He had a bad day.

You'd been together for less than an year but you could tell how he was feeling just on the basis of the tempo of his feet on the floor.

His bag dropped on the floor with a 'thud'. He never announced his arrival, but he had a habit of greeting the cats. He didn't do that either. Today must've been really rough.

You got up from your bed a found him out in the living room. Practice clothes drenched in sweat, he was home late, you knew what had happened. He was frustrated with himself. You could see it in the way his brows scrunched and his body slumped.

"Hey. You good?" He just nodded in response.

"Let me get you some water-"

"No need." He cut you off. "I'm gonna shower first." He said as he walked in, shoes out of the rack, bag thrown in the middle of the room, very unlike him.

You put his stuff in place, shoes where they should be, bag in the little space in your bedroom it was always kept in. You decided to make him him a milkshake, he loved those after practice.

___

You could hear him coming out of the bedroom, his footsteps still a little heavy.

"I made a milkshake for you. It's on the table!" You told him from your place on the couch. He ignored it.

"Where is my bag?" He inquired.

"At it's spot, why?"

"I would have kept it myself. There was stuff in it that I needed to get out. Couldn't you just let it be?"

Ouch. Okay maybe you shouldn't have touched his things without telling him. He walked to the kitchen, you walked in a little, to find him quickly finishing up the shake, expression still grumpy.

You took the glass from his hands and stopped him as he was walking away, to which he let out a little sound of annoyance. You checked his temperature, he was sweating.

"I'm fine." He grumbled, swatting your hand away.

"No wait-" He didn't stop protesting, even after you insisted. He was eager to get away from you. But you didn't let him.

"Minho let me see-" He hastily stepped away from you.

"OH FOR GOD'S SAKE Y/N! I'M FINE!" He yelled in annoyance. The glass in your hand dropped to the floor and shattered.

You didn't even realise when you flinched or when your arms were up in front of your body like a badly made shield, expecting more lashing out or probably worse.

He didn't mean to snap, but he realised how much damage it had truly done when he saw you, your scared stature making you look so much smaller than you were, like a child trying to get away from a monster.

"What- Hey, hey y/n, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" He reached out to comfort you and apologize but his heart shattered when you took an unconscious step backward, trying to bundle up and fold further into yourself, as if to escape him.

He stepped back to give you some space, as much as he wanted to hug you close and to apologise profusely, he knew you needed space.

"I'm sorry." The apology that escaped you was barely audible. Why were you apologizing? He'd been the one to snap stupidly over some little things like an immature dumbass.

"I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry I invaded your space when you were clearly drained from your day. I'll clean this up and I won't bother you anymore." You said as you cautiously sat down to pick up the shards of glass.

He didn't know what to say. He'd been so hurtful to you, yelled at you for something small and irrelevant. Been an insensitive jerk. And you apologized to him. Why? You should have hit him, been mad at him or refused to talk to him for the rest of the week and he'd have been better than he was now, knowing that you were apologizing for something that was far from your fault. But he made you believe it was. He knew how sensitive you were, yet he behaved like that.

He bent down in a squat to help you pick the pieces of glass. He didn't even know how to apologise to you and that made his guilt worsen.

The glass hadn't broken into small pieces so you finished quickly and threw them away.

"You didn't't have to help. I'd have managed it-" You paused abruptly and stood up and rushed to the cabinet, and then across the other side of the kitchen to where he was.

You grabbed his hand and began to tend to the cut he hadn't even realised he'd made in his hand. You cleaned the blood and checked for any small pieces of glass before you dabbed alcohol onto it. You sniffled lightly and he looked at your face. Your eyes were glossy and there were traces of messily wiped tears on your face. He made you cry.

You didn't cry easily.

"Fuck. I'm so, so sorry. y/n, I-" He tried to apologise but was met with a neutral tone, not a shaky one like his.

"It's fine. It wasn't your fault." You were retreating back into yourself. Self-isolating into your thoughts. He could see the signs. Whenever you needed to cope, you retreated into your mind, and it wasn't the best place to be. He could see your expression going from concerned to blank as you wrapped a bandage around his careless cut.

He needed to stop you from going into that headspace. Quickly.

You picked up the first aid kit and walked back to the cabinet. Minho stood up in a rush and followed you.

You turned away from him, you couldn't look at him right now. Or he'd be an angel again and make you forget how stupid you had acted. How you'd pestered him when he probably needed space-

Your thoughts are invaded the warmth of his body enveloping yours into a backhug. You were too tired to protest so you didn't. Even if you did, you'd probably have failed to escape the desperate iron grip he had on you. But you didn't reciprocate it. Part of you was still stirred because of his earlier outburst. You still believed he was mad at you. And he should be. Even if you were deeply hurt. Your brain told you it was your fault. That you deserved this.

"I'm so, so, so fucking sorry. I didn't mean to do that. You were just trying to take care of me, and I was being an asshole to you. I'm so sorry I snapped, I know my apology won't make it better or fix the damage, but I want to you to know that I regret it. A lot. I don't know how to make it up to you, I don't think anything would be enough. I never wanted to hurt you. Just...I guess I was pent up and released it in the wrong place. I'm so sorry, baby. Don't shut me out, please. Do anything. Be angry, call me an ungrateful piece of shit, cuss me out, hit me, yell at me, but don't isolate yourself. Please. I beg you- I'll do anythin-"

He cut off his rambling when you leaned your head back on his shoulder. You were back. You were out of your spiral of thoughts.

Slowly, you arms covered his, wrapped around your waist. Your face turned slightly towards him and he felt a hot tear touch his skin as it glided down, accompanied by a tiny, heartbreaking sniffle.

You let him turn you around and let his body warmth engulf you.

That was apparently all your brain needed to activate this pathetic cascade of tears. Fuck. Why couldn't you stop crying? Was it because he had reminded you of the people that had hurt you before? Or was it because this warmth had never been offered to you when you were hurt? Was it because you didn't have to pick yourself up anymore? To not deal with the crash because he'd pick you up before you had to.

Right then your mind reminded you of the people that would yell at you when you were younger, how you'd grown up always feeling like you were doing something wrong to anger them while all they ever did was to take their unreasonable hatred out on you. How you'd be surrounded by a constant guilt of never being able to fulfill their "little expectations". And an ugly, gut-wrenching sob tore out of somewhere deep within you.

Had it always hurt this much?

You were surprised, because you didn't feel guilty anymore. The usual guilt that accompanied whenever someone yelled at you wasn't here now. But you were hurt. Or maybe, you finally allowed yourself to feel the hurt instead of blaming it on yourself. You let yourself feel hurt without feeling guilty, and that was a big weight off your shoulders, one you never realized you'd had. But the tears didn't seem to stop. They were flowing out of you like they were carrying every pent up feeling and every buried frustration from over the years.

Did it hurt more than the others because it was him who yelled at you? You didn't know. All you knew was that you liked when he held you like this. So warm. So soft. So careful. His fingers threaded through your hair and his arm found it's way to rub your back. He rocked you in place, calming your racing mind and letting you cry your worries out.

You weren't the best at expressing yourself with words or at dealing with your trauma, so this was a welcome feeling, because most days, you didn't even know how to cry. But crying felt better than you expected.

You both stood there for a what felt like a second but was much more, before he slowly let go of your figure, still holding you hands.

"Please never yell at me again. Just tell me if I'm being a bother or doing something wrong. I'll fix it. But please don't yell?" Your voice was timid because of your little crying session.

"I would never. It wasn't your fault. At all. You were just trying to take care of me while all I did was be an ignorant asshole. I'm so sorry. You can take it out on me. I won't mind." He sniffled and you noticed the tears that had gathered in his pretty eyes.

"It's okay. I forgive you." You said, whispering, not wanting to break the little spell you both were in. You connected your forehead to his and closed your eyes. His presence was comforting.

"My reaction wasn't your fault. It's a reflex. I don't want to talk about the reason right now. All I want you to know is that it wasn't your fault. Don't blame yourself. You were mentally overwhelmed. It's alright." You assured him.

"Ok. I want to insist it was my fault but I won't. Nonetheless, that was bad of me. How can make it up?" He asked you, lifting his head to look at your face. Red from all the crying with your eyes slightly swollen. You smiled, a little evil glint returning to your eyes.

"Clean the house and make me jjajangmyeon and maybe I'll think about it."

"Come onnn!" He whined at you.

"You asked for it!" You giggle and free your hands from him, aiming to walk out of the kitchen, but he pulled you back and buried his face in your neck.

"Fine", he sounded a little muffled, "but only if you keep me company while I cook." He sounds like a grumpy baby.

"Of course. But clean the house first. I'll go shower. Bye." This time you actually ran out of the kitchen. He giggled at your escaping figure.

He never wrapped his mind around how forgiving you were. He was pretty sure what he did today wasn't behaviour worth forgiveness but here you were, always so generous to him.

He sighed. His guilt still tugged at his heartstrings but he told himself that he'll be better. He'll be more thoughtful, more careful, more observant of his behaviour and of your triggers. He wasn't about to let impulsive reaction take him away from a person like you. He'll work on himself so that he can be worthy of you.

But he didn't know that how he'd handled the entire situation and how genuinely he had apologized was something no one had ever done for you. He'd secured himself a place in your life which probably wasn't getting out of anytime soon.

#leeknow #skz #stray kids #leeknow fluff #leeknow angst #hurt comfort #tw yelling #kpop #lowkey shit but nvm #i wrote it in a rush

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raccoonsrummagerostrum · 1 year

Text

The Storm

Yautja x GN!reader hurt/comfort

Word count: 2k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, storm (rain, thunder), yelling

Summary: trapped at home during a storm, you and your lover get into a nasty fight.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH HHHHHGJGHDJXKAOCNEKQOXJCRNEOXHBEKQOAAAA💅

It was storm season. And your area was particularly known for bad storms. Even worse, it had been unseasonably warm so far, but that would soon come to an end with a big cold front. Unfortunately the perfect weather for storms. You were ready though. You were stocked up on plenty of food, water, battery's, and emergency power banks that you could shelter in place for a month before needing help.

Your lover on the other hand didn't think the oncoming storm was a big deal. They thought you were worrying over nothing. That the storm would come and go with little issue. Besides it would be nothing compared to the apocalyptic dust storms that they had back on their home planet. With 200 mph wind, five mile tall clouds, and near constant lighting. Whether or not this was an over exaggeration was up to speculation. (321 kph, eight kilometers)

You did your best to ignore your lover, as you had more important things to deal with. Like putting plywood over your windows, and organizing all your supplies.

At last the storm hit. The rain pelted the outside of your walls, and taped threateningly on the wood covered windows. You turned on the news, the only time you ever watched the news, and hunkered down. Your lover, ever unbothered, came to sit next to you. Though they could sense your agitation, they couldn't figure why. They tried to lighten the atmosphere by snarking about the anchorman's bad hair, but instead of your usual wit you shot back a dark look. Your lover shifted in their seat under your steely gaze, before you turned your attention back to the TV. But your lover huffed, earning another look from you.

"Why are you so worried about this? It is not like you are going to die." You seethed. This level of insensitivity from your lover was, thankfully, unusual. But that only caused you to grow angrier.

"I might." That short retort squeezed itself out from between your teeth. "People die in storms all the time, and for all you know it could come down right on top of us and kill me." Your lover was taken aback at that. This kind of outburst wasn't like you. It made them worry. But the fire now lighting In your eyes only served to taunt them.

"For all you know it will turn out to be nothing. And you will look like an idiot having gotten so worked up over nothing." You lost it. Standing up now.

"WHY CAN'T YOU TAKE MY CONCERNS SERIOUSLY." You were shouting now. "Why is it that every time I'm worried about something it's nothing and I'm over reacting, or being dramatic. But whenever your concerned or even just a bit uncomfortable THE WORLD IS ENDING." Part of you wanted to stop. The rational, reasonable part of you wanted to stop knowing that now is not a good time for this. But another dark, shameful, and spiteful side if you wanted to make this worse, just to see what would happen.

"YOU OOMANS ARE TINY AND SHORT SIGHTED. YOU WORRY OVER NOTHING, AND OVERREACT AT EVERYTHING." Now they were standing, and shouting. Partly to match your energy, and partly to be heard over the crescendo of rain and wind outside. Your home was being battered as were your feelings.

"You got scared of a balloon one time," You said, crossing your arms and turning away from them.

"And you thought I would not return from a hunt." Their voice dropped and dripped with venom.

"So I'm just not allowed to be concerned about real ACTUAL DANGER, but it's TOTALLY FINE for you to get scared at a DRAGON on the TV. YOU DRAGGED ME OVER THE COUCH JUST TO HIDE FROM THE DAMN THING..."

"DO NOT INSULT MY INTEGRITY..."

Two things then happened at the same moment. A boom of thunder cracked above you, shaking the walls and rattling the plates. And the power went out, plunging both of you into silence and darkness.

A moment passed, and then another. And then you started to sob. Your tears poured from your eyes like the rain outside. Your lover stared at you through their mask. Their thermal vision allowing them to watch as you furiously wipe your eyes. They could see your body go cold. The heat retreated from your fingers and skin, and pooling in your face. Another crack of thunder rang out and you jumped, cowering while also desperately trying to regain yourself.

"Why do you even care?" You asked. Voice shaking as well as your hands. "Why do you even care about me? Why do you care what I think? Why is it so important that I don't worry, or that I don't overreact? Why can't you just let me be worried." Despite your best efforts you sobbed harder. The uncontrollable shaking of your body forcing you to the floor. As you fell you felt your lover's arms around you. They guided you to the floor, and held you.

"I do not want you to think that I am weak." Their voice was quiet, down right meek. You sniffed hard a few times before responding.

"I don't think you're weak, I just- I just... I just worry. I just do. I love you, and there's nothing you can do to make me not worry." You allowed yourself to sink into their chest. Their skin was warm, their breathing slow. Their heart beat in a strange but pleasant pattern. "Why..." you struggled to continue, "why do you always brush off my concerns?"

"I am trying to be strong. For you." They pulled you in even closer. "I do not want to lose you." That shocked you. You looked up at them in the dark.

"Do you think that if you're weak, I'll leave you?" Even asking caused you pain. You couldn't even think of it. Shaking your head you continued, "No! I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't leave you because you're weak. You've been inconsiderate lately, and that bothers me. But it would still take a lot to get me to leave you. But being weak wouldn't be why."

Your hand fumbled in the dark. Accidentally smacking their mandibles, you eventually found their cheek. The rain still fell, and the wind still howled. Thunder clapped a little softer now, and you both sat on the floor, still, and quiet. Something wet dripped on your thumb. Your lover's chest heaved, and shuttered. You gently pulled their head down to you until your foreheads softly collided.

"I'm sorry I made you feel weak. I didn't mean to. The truth is, I look to you for strength. You inspire me to face my fears and be brave. I'm still going to worry, even if I wanted to stop I don't think I can. But if there is something I can do so that you don't feel weak please, please let me know. I love you." You punctuated the 'I love you' with a gentle kiss between their eyes. They breathed heavily for a moment before responding.

"I'm sorry I made you cry. I don't want to scare you, I don't want to-... I don't want to make you worry." They took a long pause. "You are everything to me. You are my love, my home. I would sooner throw myself into a star than do anything to hurt you. I love you. I will improve." They reached out to you with their mandibles. Gently holding your face with the four fangs and the end of each.

There the two of you sat and cried. Holding each other though the worst of the storm. Neither of you knew how much time had passed, neither of you cared. But the moment you both pulled away, ready to get up. The power came back on. The lights lit up, the TV flicked alive again, and the heater hummed softly in the background. Seeing your lover again you could saw the damp scales on their face shimmer in the light. Their cheeks were flushed an unnatural bright green.

You attempted to get off the floor, only for them to shoot up and extend a clawed hand to help you. As you stand, you stumble, your leg having fallen asleep while pressed against the floor. Your lover reacted immediately, picking you up and holding you again.

You smiled at that. Relishing once again in their presence. They carried you back to the couch, gently setting you down in your nest of blankets before sitting themselves next to it. Only for you to pull them by the arm until they had climbed into said nest with you. They were practically on top of you, acting as the world's strangest weighted blanket, and you loved it. Eventually the news moved on from the ever weakening storm to more normal news. Quickly growing bored and or sick of it, you grabbed the remote and flicked through some channels until you got to the bad reality TV that you and your lover so loved making fun of. And with that your lover began to purr loudly. The sound reverberating straight from their chest and into yours.

Aftermath

Several hours passed and you opened your eyes to see the TV still on. The room was dark, only illuminated by said TV. Your lover was still on top of you, their purr being the only indicator that they were awake.

“What time is it?” You asked. Which only earned you a shrug. Rolling your eyes you taped around yourself for your phone, finding it eventually. 11:48. Am or PM? You thought. You taped again around for the remote, flicking back to the news once you found it. The weather was on.

“-solutly beautiful after last night's storm. Sunny, currently 48 degrees, with temperatures climbing into the mid fifties later this afternoon.” AM. Then, as if on cue your hunger made its appearance. You nudge your lover, who immediately conceded and got up. Still concerned about your stumble last night they cautiously helped you up, only for you to proceed normally to the kitchen to fix the two of you some breakfast. (8 degrees c, ~12 degrees c)

“Is there anything I can do for you, love?” You stopped, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. This was quite unusual for them, but not at all unwelcome. Turning around to face them, you responded.

“Yes actually, could you take down the plywood off the windows.” They nodded and immediately went outside.

As they stepped out they futzed with their wrist gauntlet inorder to activate their cloaking, but the moment they looked up they stopped dead in their tracks. Branches, and leaves were strewn about, trash littered the street, the siding had been pulled off of buildings, and windows were smashed in, scattering glass everywhere. They had never before seen this kind of discruction on earth. Turning their gaze to the buildings on either side of yours, they were in bad shape, just as the rest of the street. But yours was fine. Whatever furniture you had outside was tipped over, or askew, but still there having been tied down. The wood covering the widows had some chips taken out of them, but as your lover effortlessly pulled it off, the widows underneath were undamaged.

Returning back inside they pondered what this kind of caution and worry would have meant back on their home planet. It would have meant ridicule from others, even violence against you. Weakness such as this was not something to be taken seriously. It was something that needed to be corrected. Since devoting themselves to you, they had suffered taunts and insults from their fellow clan members for it. They saw them as weak for choosing such a fragile prey animal as a mate instead of one of their own kind. But they could handle all that, if it meant being with you. They would have happily allowed themselves to be crucified if it meant being with you. But they knew now that they could not allow that mind set to affect them with you, not again. They had promised to improve, and they would.

#writing #fanfic #yautja #yautja x human #yautja x reader #x reader #hurt #comfort #hurt/comfort #angst #storm #tw thunder #tw yelling

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