#5 Piece Bedroom Set | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 7 months ago

Note

🎀 anon

congrats on 5k

hey bb ! i’ve been brainrotting on insatiable lando and his gf for weeks now omg

for a cute lil fic i was thinking of reader being max f’s sister and lando and her being secretly together. they’re all on vacation together and lando and reader are super insanely insatiable and the story on how they act on vacay 😈😈

anywhere she wants.

ln x fem fewtrell!reader

in which no one approves of your relationship, so lando shows them just how good he is to you…

oh my sweet 🎀 anon, i’m sorry this took so long! slowly getting back into the groove of writing, starting with this little piece! i went a bit off script but the vibes are hopefully similar to the request! huge thanks to angel bby @fairene for helping me out!enjoy! lemme know what you think!! big hugs and lots of love 💖

songs to set the mood: my love mine all mine by mitski, i know places by taylor swift, she will be loved by maroon 5, summertime sadness by lana del rey

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, fluff, angst, a bit of exhibitionism kinda, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, established relationship, max being a dick, angry/feral!lando, girlboss!reader, hints of ownership kink? for like. a second, lando being wise (not canon lmao), swearing

4.2k words

fairy lights drench the pool with light, a glow dancing over the still surface in ripples. you smile, hum with content as the warm evening air washes over your skin, leaning over the balcony to take in the sight of where you’ll be staying.

footsteps sound from behind you, the master bedroom, and you quickly feel two warm arms wrap around your waist, tan and thick. you lean into his touch, chest warming from the kisses peppered over your jugular.

“you like it?” lando breathes, nosing over your earlobe.

“it’s beautiful.” you whisper, turning your head to nuzzle against him. he seizes the opportunity to seal his lips over yours, kissing you soft and deep. you spin in his arms, clutching at his shirt to hold him close, the kiss intensifying, changing pace. just as he licks into your mouth, a sigh, so loud that it breaks the sound barrier, tears you both apart.

“so is that all you two do now, suck each others faces?” max rolls his eyes, his disapproval of your relationship one of the worlds worst kept secrets.

“yes, max. that’s all we do.” you mock, biting back at your older brother.

because of course you’re dating your brothers best friend. of course you are. life is funny like that.

lando stays silent, but you feel his hand on your waist tightening. max swallows hard.

“we ordered pizza, if you guys wanna come down.” max bulldozes through the awkwardness, offering an olive branch, and leaves.

“he is such a knob.” you mutter, shaking your head. lando strokes tentatively over your cheek, soothing you.

“he’s your big brother, baby. he’ll get over this.” lando coos reassuringly, and you choose the easy path of believing him.

you and max occupy opposite ends of the excessively large dining table when you join the rest of your friends.

the tension has been palpable between you and max since he caught you sneaking out of lando’s london flat one morning, the reason for your visit quite clear. you’d stood with your ear to the door when he’d stormed past you and entered the apartment, making you more than aware that your presence was unwanted when he quickly slammed the door behind him.

you’d endured the one-sided screaming match that followed, the accusations that lando must be playing with your feelings, that it would never work out, that it wasn’t fair at how exposed you’d be to the cruelty of his fan base, that he couldn’t believe how low lando would stoop to date his little fucking sister.

you wanted to understand, and really, you tried!but max hadn’t made it easy, constantly pushing your buttons and making needless digs at the both of you. lando convinced you that this holiday during the summer break would be healing; max would get to see how much lando cared for you, and everyone got much needed time to relax. so, with your friend group in tow, the three of you jetted off to the tiny spanish island.

surely, everything would be fine.

everything was not, in fact, fine.

you can smell it in the air, the tension building thick and heavy. everyone thought they were slick, waiting for lando to leave so they could corner you, and corner you, they did.

lando had kissed you sweetly by the sliding doors to the garden, popping his airpods in and shouting a quick: going on a run! to the rest of your holiday party. you’d sauntered carelessly to a lounger, bikini clad, sprawling out across the chair to tan and watch the who can do the best canon ball into the pool competition that has become a long running championship. but you can feel stares, feel the walls closing in, and you push your sunglasses up to rest over your hairline.

max and pietra are locked in on you, as are the rest of your friends.

“what?” you feel hot, embarrassed all of the sudden for no reason at all.

“so, it’s going well, then… with lando?” one of your girlfriends starts, but it sounds extra high pitched, awkward. your stomach sinks as you realise the pathetically choreographed dance about to take place.

“for fuck sake.” you mutter.

“she’s just asking!” max shoots back, as if he’s offended, as if you can’t see right through him.

“it’s going great.” you state, blunt as ever whenever your relationship is questioned.

“we just wanna make sure that this is right for you.” pietra says sympathetically, her eyes soft. you’ve known her long enough to know that even though her dickhead boyfriend is being callous, she genuinely cares.

“lando is right for me, you are all so full of shit! i don’t get what it is that you’re seeing.” you try and keep your voice level, even as your blood pressure begins to rise menacingly.

“it’s not so much what we see between you, it’s more about what he was like before.” tom jumps in.

ah, yes. the infamous hoe phase.

“because no one here ever fucked around.” you glare pointedly at your brother. he lowers his gaze.

“are we sure this isn’t just a… a fling?” pietra tries again, staying soft. her words still sting.

“yeah, i know him better than you do, and i-“ max’s voice cuts you like a thousand shards of glass and you body ignites with rage.

he knows him better? what does he know?

does he know that lando can’t sleep without telling you that he loves you? does he know that lando cried into you arms after his miami win? does he know that lando feels itchy if he doesn’t tell you that you’re beautiful at least eleven times an hour? does he know that you’re so crazy about his gorgeous, loving, infuriating best friend that you’re prepared to tell your brother where to go and to never come back?

“shut the fuck up, max. you know nothing! nothing about our relationship because you never gave us a chance. you don’t see how much i love him because every time you see us together, you’re hellbent on destroying our happiness.” you point angrily, standing from your chair. before you turn to the house, you leave them all with a parting message.

“and all of you will do very well to remember who paid to bring your bitter arses here. remember whose fucking house you’re in.” you lecture, watching as they all turn sheepish as they realise how ungrateful they sound.

“i don’t think i have anything to add.” you hear from behind you.

you jump, turning to see lando leaning against the door.

“shit, baby.” you breathe, rushing towards him, your skin crawling as you wonder how much he’s heard.

“forgot my phone.” he shrugs, smiling warmly at you. only at you. “now unless anyone has anything to add, i’m gonna take my very, very serious girlfriend upstairs.” he grins smugly.

the silence is so deafening that you couldn’t of even heard a pin drop if you’d tried.

you hold up your middle finger as he leads you away.

your bedroom door slams so hard that they must hear it outside. he’s tense, enraged at the disrespect that you’d endured, but he’s soft with you, pulling you into his rigid body. he relaxes into you, walking you further into the room.

“how much did you hear?” you whisper, clinging to him.

“oh, you know, just all of it.” he laughs bitterly, fingers sinking into your hips.

“they’re assholes.” you growl, threading your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, just the way he likes it.

“there is one good thing about it though.” lando hums, still guiding you deeper into the room. your back thuds softly against the sliding glass door, the one that leads to your balcony.

“what?” you breathe, suddenly extremely aware of his lower body.

“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad.” he smirks.

turns out, he didn’t steal you away to mope.

his lips crash against yours fiercely, teeth and tongue getting in on the action as he moves his mouth feverishly against your own. your neck tilts back, allowing him to swallow you whole, like his life depends on the feeling of you pressed against him. he trails kisses over your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, two fingers grazing your ribcage. he snaps the tie of your bikini against your skin, stone cold aware of the lack of clothing adorning your body and he hums low from the back of his throat.

“they need to learn that you’re mine, that you’re always gonna be mine.” lando grunts, pulling away to slide the door open. he pushes you out onto the balcony, the one that overlooks the very pool that your friends and your brother are licking their wounds around.

“lando…” you gasp, weary of his overly adventurous attitude.

“maybe this will make them realise just how crazy you make me.” lando looks possessed, moving towards you like a wild animal engulfing its prey.

he cages you in against the wall, pulling one leg over his hip to spread you open, his fingers travelling to the flimsy tie of your bikini bottoms. you’re already soaked, embarrassingly so, really, but there’s just something about those gorgeous, haunted eyes. lando let’s the bottoms fall to the floor, kicking them away impatiently as he quickly finds home between your legs.

“think anyone else can get you this wet?” lando asks, eyes rolling back as he finds your slick folds. your jaw drops, already boneless at the feel of him. “answer me, baby. nice ‘n loud for me.” he demands.

“no, lan.” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. he’s teasing, stroking lightly over your folds and your sensitive bud.

“and can anyone else make you feel this good? i mean, baby, i’ve barely touched you and you’re shaking.” lando’s teeth catch his bottom lip, his eyes glazing over as he watches you.

“lando, please.” you mutter, grinding down on his hand. you need more of him. he grins, flashing his teeth with pride as he renders you desperate.

“my pretty girl fucking my hand, god, you’re so perfect.” lando praises, earning a moan from your kiss-swollen lips. “bet they can hear how soaked you are, baby.”

you flush red, shame and embarrassment blurring the pleasure and you press a tense hand to your mouth, trying to silence the waterfall of whines.

“don’t you fucking dare.” he warns, sliding his fingers deep into your pussy. he gives you no time to adjust, curling them upwards and rocking his whole hand against you. his palm bumps against your clit and you writhe against the wall.

there’s no point covering your mouth, there is no hiding what’s happening. you let him have you how he wants you, a consolation for him having to hear his friends badmouth him, and he takes every liberty, mouthing at your covered tits, lapping over your peaked nipples. you cry out, weak as he manipulates your body closer to an orgasm, your wetness trickling down his wrist.

“so good to me, baby, only you, lando.” you choke, your voice echoing between the stone walls.

“that’s it, honey, make a mess for me. let ‘em hear you pretty girl.” he encourages, talking you straight into your first orgasm.

you tremble, gushing all over his hand as you cum, droplets splattering all over the paved floor. lando’s eyes turn black, mouth hanging open as he watches you fall apart, riding you through it.

lando let’s you cool down, propping you carefully against the wall, and leaning over the balcony. funnily enough, max is long gone, but the rest of them sit in stunned silence. he can’t help himself, driven mad by your quivering body and their cruel jabs, choosing whatever the opposite of the high road is. he reaches into his pocket, finding his credit card.

“get out of the villa that i paid for so i can fuck my girlfriend anywhere she wants.” he shouts, watching the way their necks snap up to look at him, revelling in their reddened faces that are not just flushed from the sun. “take this. have dinner. just fuck off.” he frisbees his card at tom, - rather carelessly really, considering just how much there was to lose on that little black square - and he revels in the way it lands square against his forehead.

they all stand up and scurry away, as few faint sorry’s! carrying through the air towards the couple on the balcony, but lando has more important business to attend to.

he scoops you up into his arms, grinning at your coy smile and your drooping eyes. he carries you to bed, planting you in the middle of the mattress.

“not done with you yet, baby, open those eyes for me.” lando coos, crawling over you, his shirt and workout shorts flung to the other side of the room. he feels delicious against you, caging you in beneath him.

“want you, lan.” you plead, a desperate smile on your face as you keen, stretching against the mattress like a cat.

“you’ll have me, baby. always gonna have me.” he smiles, eyes finding yours. “i love you.”

“love you so much.” you whisper, pulling him flush against you. “no matter what.” you affirm. he needed to hear that, it seems, his eyes sparkling with something else, other than the sheen of lust.

he kisses you, firm and wanting, his fingertips sliding up over your arms, leaving prickles of lightning and goosebumps in their wake. one of his hands interlocks with yours, twining together above your head, his body stretching languidly over yours. you can feel him, hard and throbbing between your legs, teetering on the knife edge of self control.

“take me, lando. have me how you want me. ‘m yours.” you croon, disguising a helpless whine as you arch your body into his. you’re squirming for it, to feel him sink deep and claim you his.

that seems to usher him along, and he drags his cock through your folds with a slow roll of his hips, the head catching your sodden entrance. you hiss, the intrusion not even nearly enough, but the sensation overwhelming you nonetheless. he slides into you carefully, stilling when his hips hit flush against yours. you do not want careful.

“fuck me.” you groan wetly, hot breath fanning his face as your mouth instinctively fills with saliva. you’re close to drooling for him.

“beg.” he snaps, jaw tight as he battles his natural instinct to utterly ravage you. “beg me to show you that i own you.”

your legs quiver, pussy clenching around him and he cannot help but buck his hips and suppress a whine. he styles it out, tantalisingly slow as he rolls his hips, grinding against your pleasure point, your slick walls. blood rushes in your ears, your body feral with need. you can’t even tease, disobey him for the fun of it, not when he’s wound you up so delectably. your body keens for him, hums with the sparks, a live wire.

“don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done,” you slur, beginning to ramble. “want to feel you so deep that i’m ruined. ‘m yours, lando. have me.” you plead.

pleasure shoots through him, then, rapid and unwavering. he’s unforgiving as he rails into you, immediately stoking the fire in your belly. all of his body weight is on you, sweaty skin sticking and slapping as his hipbones bruise into yours.

“is that how you want it, huh, baby?” he manages to growl, scooping up your wrists in one big paw, his other hand working down the planes and curves of your body. he finds the triangles of your bikini top, hastily tearing them down just enough so that your tits spill out. all for him. all his. “look at this perfect fucking body,” his breathe hitches, awestruck. “is it all mine?”

you cry out, nodding shamelessly as he ghosts his fingers around the swell of your nipple, switching to the other when he’s satisfied with the peak. he alternates between them, twisting and tugging, barely there and all too hard. you can only plead his name and tighten around his cock.

once he’s overstimulated your chest, he works his fingers further down your body, stopping now and then to dig into your flesh, appreciating the soft feeling of your skin under his calloused hands.

“and this hot, little cunt… is this mine, too?” lando breathes, right against the shell of your ear. his thumb presses hard against your thrumming clit, smearing your slick over the bud. “to play with? is it baby?”

“god, yes.” you manage to bellow, the strained words tearing over your vocal chords.

“yes, what?” lando snaps, slapping lightly over the bundle of nerves.

“it’s yours!” you sob, choking on your own voice.

“to…?” lando coaxes, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips as he looks at you expectantly.

“to play with.” you stutter, cheeks tinged hot with embarrassment that seeps down your neck and between your sweat-dampened bodies.

“that’s my good girl. my pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

“‘m so close.” you breathe, writhing up the mattress, his body atop your inescapable. he toys with your clit, pinching the electrified nerves, watching how you buck your hips and leak onto the mattress. he’s covered in you, his belly glistening in the sunlight that washes over you, sealing you forever in this golden, sparkling moment.

“want me to cum all over your tummy, baby? mark you mine?” lando gasps, driving into you with one goal in mind. he has to get you there, wants to be painted in the remnants of your pleasure and hung up in every art museum in the world. if only he wasn’t so selfish, yearning to keep this stunning sight to himself for the rest of his life.

“n-no,” you pause, your jaw going slack for a moment as he circles your clit just right, grinds his hips so deep. “inside me.” you beg.

“fill me up.”

his vision blurs.

lando just about folds you in half, carnal desire surging through his veins. the hand keeping yours suspended over your head falls away, finding your navel where he applied a brutal, sweet pressure that leaves you blind and wailing. his other fingers busy themselves sinking into the meat of your thigh, dragging you backwards and forwards on his throbbing length.

your body goes limp, tears of pleasure trailing wetly down your face as your orgasm hits you, and lando can’t help but bury himself as deep as he can go. the rutting of his hips and the messy rub of his whole hand against your clit leaves you awestruck, sobbing into the air of the room. you’re covering him in waves, shivering as you grow overstimulated but you can’t help but chase the high. your violent quivers and dripping cunt make him whine, high pitched and divine, and he drops onto you, filling you up. he can’t seem to stop, painting you white from the inside out, watching the way it drips out of you, coating the base of his cock.

this can’t be over yet, he decides. he needs to hear you scream.

“lemme help you with that.” he mumbles, slinking down your body, eyes fixed solely on where you were joined together.

you don’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of him buried inside of you, no. you’re too busy pushing at his curls, pleading that he lets up, but he can’t. it’s not that he won’t, it’s that he quite simply can’t.

his tongue runs up the seam of your pussy, lapping over the mixture you’ve made and you can’t do anything but cry and thrash, white hot with pleasure and pain. its so good that it hurts, and you give in, knowing that he isn’t going to stop unless you say the magic words. lord knows, you won’t. lando knows you won’t.

it’s torturous, really, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, drags his tongue over his mess and slips it right into your entrance. he swirls and sucks and nips and tugs. it’s like he’s turned a faucet on, watching hazily as you drip and drip, more of you and him seeping onto his tongue. he’s insatiable as he licks you clean, unable to resist luring you into a third orgasm.

and when it hits, god, does it hit.

the scream he pulls from your body is deafening, makes him shake with the intensity of it, the vibrations rippling through your body and ricocheting off of his. you relax limply into the mattress, urgently needing a break. you watch through hooded eyes as he slurps anything left of you from his reddened lips, your thighs clenching unconsciously. he just chuckles, flopping down beside you.

“tired, baby?” lando teases, stroking over your rapidly rising and falling ribs.

“just a tad.” you deadpan, unable to hold back the giggles as serotonin soothes you.

“oh, sweetheart. i’m not even nearly done with you yet.” lando grins toothily, deviously.

something he said about fucking you ‘anywhere’ you wanted dawns on you and your eyes widen.

anywhere really did mean anywhere.

he’d had to carry you to the shower when you were finally done, holding you close under the spray. you were lost to the memory of him pushing you into the sideboard in the hallway, laying you flat across the kitchen counter, eating you like dessert on the very same sun lounger that you’d been perched on when this whole marathon commenced.

you’re utterly spent, eyelids sagging when he finally sets you down on the sofa, playing on his phone while you fall asleep watching the office.

you’re curled up in lando’s lap, legs hanging over the end of the sofa when max finds you. hair still wet from the much needed shower and fast asleep in his best friends arms. he actively chooses to quell the disgusted curl of his lips. you look so peaceful, safe. his plans to throttle lando for his earlier stint subside.

“call me a wankstain on society later, if you want, but please don’t wake her up.” lando speaks with a hushed tone, not even gracing max with eye contact, his eyes remaining on the candies he’d been crushing before the other fewtrell turned up.

“i- no, i wasn’t gonna call you that. i did, however, consider driving that very nice, very vintage lambo you hired off a cliff.” max mutters. lando scoffs a laugh.

“you would have paid for it.” he still doesn’t look up from the phone. max eyes the way lando strokes your side, in time with the crests and falls of your breath. it’s tender, intimate.

max considers that there’s a strong possibility he was wrong.

“mate, listen-“

“nope. she’s your baby sister, i get it. i get it. you can hate me for it, but you crossed a line going after her like that.” lando finally looks up at max, glowering sternly.

“i’m gonna talk to her.” max bows his head, as if he’s ashamed of himself and lando softens slightly.

“you should, mate. she wants your support, your approval means everything.” lando says. “look, i love her. i really do. and while you were accusing me of trying to ruin her life, you were crushing her.” lando sighs, his voice wavering with a hint of pain. max meets his gaze.

“for the record, i don’t think anyone will ever be good enough for my little sister, but you come pretty fucking close.” max relents, pushing his pride aside, finally. lando smiles, small and knowing.

“i just wanna make her happy.” he shrugs, a look of hopeless romance, utter devotion and pure happiness radiating off of him in waves as he gazes down at your frame. something in max’s belly snaps, the apprehension dissolving to mush. he had gotten this all wrong.

“you do.” he hums, watching how you curl further into lando as you stir in your sleep, the drivers fingers delicately combing your hair away from your face. “but,” max quips.

lando grimaces, bracing himself.

“if you ever, ever, pull something like that again,” max shivers with disgust at the insinuation. “i will remove your bollocks and make you watch me crash the miura.” max swears, pointing a finger of warning.

“seems like everyone’s come to their senses, no more… pranks from me.” lando holds his free hand up in mock surrender.

“have you two kissed and made up yet?” you murmur, stretching out in lando’s arms. you rub sleep from your eyes, sitting up and leaning into your boyfriends solid frame, resting against him as your eyes flit to your brother.

“we’re good. ‘m, uh, sorry.” max nods, attempting to be heartfelt. lando chokes on a laugh as it falls flat.

“you’re “uh, sorry”?” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i’m really sorry.” max tries again, and you grin cheekily at your brother, watching as his shoulders release the tension they’ve been carrying all afternoon. he turns to leave, halfway to the door when you call out to him.

“hey, max?”

“yeah, lovely?” your chest warms at the sweet nickname. you’d forgotten the last time he’d called you that.

“wash your sheets.” your eyes blaze with amusement and you hear lando’s sharp inhale of breath, shocked that you’d gone there.

“you didn’t- my god, you did not-“ max splutters, his face almost green with nausea.

“you’ll never know for sure.” you grin. you think he’s going to faint.

serves the bastard right.

hehe

lemme know what u think!! <33

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged

4K notes · View notes

scealaiscoite · 5 months ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ build-a-fic 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose a line of dialogue, an emotion and a setting (a number, letter, + a creature), and write/request to your heart’s content!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ a piece of dialogue

꒰ 1 ꒱ “i can’t fucking believe this.”

꒰ 2 ꒱ “what they said back there. is it true?”

꒰ 3 ꒱ “it’s not safe here anymore- we need to leave. now!”

꒰ 4 ꒱ “you know how much i care about you.”

꒰ 5 ꒱ “they’re never going to hurt you again.”

꒰ 6 ꒱ “here, let’s get you warmed up.”

꒰ 7 ꒱ “i didn’t do it. please, you have to believe me!”

꒰ 8 ꒱ “i’m taking you home, and that’s that.”

꒰ 9 ꒱ “do you trust me?”

꒰ 10 ꒱ “i can’t sleep either. mind if i join you?”

꒰ 11 ꒱ “you’re not your worst mistake.”

꒰ 12 ꒱ “try and eat, if you can. it’ll make you feel better.”

꒰ 13 ꒱ “i say this with all the love in my heart, but you look like shit.”

꒰ 14 ꒱ “they’re going to surround us. we need to get ready.”

꒰ 15 ꒱ “i need you to leave.”

꒰ 16 ꒱ “we can’t be seen together like this. not anymore.”

꒰ 17 ꒱ “it’s dangerous. i need you to know that before you agree.”

꒰ 18 ꒱ “it’s just one night- surely sharing a bed for that long won’t kill us.”

꒰ 19 ꒱ “it’s getting dark, we should think about heading back.”

꒰ 20 ꒱ “what have i told you about coming here?!”

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ an emotion

꒰ A ꒱ disdain

꒰ B ꒱ grief

꒰ C ꒱ ecstasy

꒰ D ꒱ disbelief

꒰ E ꒱ anxiety

꒰ F ꒱ contentment

꒰ G ꒱ drunkenness

꒰ H ꒱ enjoyment

꒰ I ꒱ confusion

꒰ J ꒱ fear

꒰ K ꒱ hunger

꒰ L ꒱ relief

꒰ M ꒱ distrust

꒰ N ꒱ fondness

꒰ O ꒱ delight

꒰ P ꒱ hurt

꒰ Q ꒱ love

꒰ R ꒱ sickness

꒰ S ꒱ exhaustion

꒰ T ꒱ betrayal

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ a setting

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ the corner bed in a hospital ward

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ a spare bedroom

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ an alleyway behind a dive bar

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ a mountainside shrouded in fog

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a skeevy motel just off the highway

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ a barren industrial plant in the middle of nowhere

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ the lush, indulgent foyer of a member’s only club

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ the war room of a military blacksite

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ the produce aisle of a 24/7 supermarket

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ the bedside of someone who doesn’t want you there

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ the walk-in fridge of a failing restaurant

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ a rickety old barn’s hayloft

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ at work, far later than you should be

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ a stranger’s bed at dawn

꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ an airplane hanger

꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ a medical bay that stinks of antiseptic and fear

꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ the kitchen of a derelict house

꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ the dressing room of a luxury department store

꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ the place where grassy plains meet desert dunes

꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ a beach at low tide

#prompts #build a fic prompts #prompt list #writing prompts #writing exercise #rp meme #dialogue prompts #otp prompts #imagine your otp #otp writing #writing games #writing ask games #ask games #drabble meme

1K notes · View notes

parkersbliss · 2 months ago

Text

the 141 and the really weird or random quirks I’ve decided they had

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader

warnings: suggestive content, like sexual content but not smut

a/n: I have zero reason for doing this expect I wanted too?? and got carried away with suggestive aspects of it which is funny cause I don't write smut lmfaooo. so mostly fluff and based off real quirks people I know have.

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Price:

no matter how many times he cleans the bathroom, his beard hair is everywhere. obviously he keeps that shit well groomed but it’s always somehow stuck on your face after you wash it, or on your shower loofah or towel. and you've tried and he’s tried to clean it and it never works.

loves gnomes. you have ones in the garden, the front yard, in your house for EVERY occasion. I’m talking christmas, easter, halloween, thanksgiving. he has a set for every season and it honestly scares you a little. one year he bought a giant one for your christmas tree as the topper and it made him so happy so you just accepted it.

doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday. He’s so much of a giver he downplays it every year. If you guys have kids, he’ll buy something for them ON HIS DAY just to take the attention off. so he kind of hates gifts, but he’s not going to not accept that. Would prefer you don’t, even though he bought you a $20K pearl necklace for your birthday. (You’re still afraid to wear it)

leaves you on heard. all. the. time. you ask him something, like as he’s sitting next to you and just … silence. sometimes he even nods, looks at you and then turns away. you’re not sure if it’s something to do with his hearing or he’s just so relaxed at home he just doesn’t comprehend sometimes. “hey, baby, what do you want for dinner?” “mm.”

average dad experience of sharing a hotel room and brother is snoring. you know what I’m talking about? the cold A.C turning on and off and mf just be out and it’s so loud you have to wear ear plugs. you wonder if he has sleep apnea at some point bc he can’t be real.

but don’t worry, he’s just as loud in bed bed ;) and he makes it known when you’re going at it

Ghost:

too stealthy for his own good and always scares the shit out of you. and he��ll try to be loud too, knocking on doors AND still isn’t loud enough. He always feel so bad but it’s also so funny to him bc he really does try to not be so quiet.

owns the same black t-shirt, like at least 5, but claims one of them is just softer and better than the others. you’ve tried them all on and there is no difference to which he mumbled something about you not having the special sense??

cat whisperer. you’ll adopt a cat while he’s gone bc you’re lonely and you spend all the time with the cat but no. cat loves ghost more. He’ll sleep on top of ghost, but never you. he’ll follow ghost around the house, but not you. it’s very infuriating. and ghost has no idea why bc he’s around 1/2 the time you are.

has a whole cabinet for his bourbon collection. and a special glass cup AND special spherical ice for it. he doesn’t even drink that often, but it was absolutely necessary (to him).

he’s a clean freak. very routine in how and when he does laundry. Bed sheets on this day, dark on this day, etc. he won’t let you do any of it. If he loses a sock, he throws out the other pair. as soon as there’s a hole in something, he throws it out.

nov. 1st is christmas to him. the tree is already up, no questions asks. there are no thanksgiving decoration in this house. he also has multiple trees, one by the entrance, one in the living room, one in your bedroom.

has definitely fucked you under the christmas lights by the fire. begs you to wear bow lingerie so he can quite literally “unwrap his best gift”

Gaz:

loves the lego car sets. his home office is decorated with all his medals AND the lego cars. has definitely left pieces out that you stepped on and then proceeded to scream his ear off.

begs you to play fortnite with him. you think he’s batshit crazy “that’s literally your actual job” “no but the raging kids makes it fun and we can match skins” (he means the banana skins btw) and he’s a troll. he doesn’t take the game seriously, he just wants to torture little kids and make fun of you when you can’t figure out where the shooting is coming from. or when you throw down a med kit instead of splash.

cannot get through a movie without fucking you and it’s always during the good parts so he’s got you in doggy and you’re still trying to watch the movie??

Instigator fr. he’s not toxic but like he’s gonna argue. Has literally once said to you “I’m not arguing I’m just explaining why I’m right” to which you stared at him and asked if he was stupid

always ask for hot sauce or sriracha at restaurants or if he can get something spicer. he eats buldok noodles with the whole sauce packet and then proceeds to sit in the bathroom for an hour while you scold him.

reckless driver to the max. you fear for your life when you’re in a car with him. He speeds (within reason he claims), he makes quick merges and switches lanes fast. he does use a turn signal so you let it slide bc he’s risky but not THAT risky.

obviously, he has horrible road rage. you’ll be calling him while he’s driving and it’s all normal and then “OI YOU FUCKING SHITE DO YOU HAVE A LICENSE?” you just sigh and then he answers you like normal, “yeah I think I’m out of toothpaste too.”

saves every selfie of you from snap and his rotating ones as his wallpaper. even the ugly ones you beg him to take out. like any guy, he’ll claim it’s his favorite and then it’s a 0.5 of you eating ice cream and it’s dripping everywhere and your eyes are half closed.

Soap:

leaves sticky notes everywhere to remind himself of things. anything. “need olive oil” “missing one blue sock” “(Y/N) wants thai takeout” “call ghost” “laundry”

and sometimes they’re not even correlated to where it should be. like the note that just says “laundry” will be in the kitchen. and he stacks on top of those sticky notes with more. “did laundry” “bought more socks” it drives you insane

he's obsessed with blankets. He has a designated like basket/bin or blankets in the living room and your bedroom. He sleeps with like three. and he’s got heated ones, sherpa ones, weighted ones, etc. absolutely collects the different printed ones for each holiday.

loves to go decor shopping with you, but only because he wants to pick out the ugliest things and see your reaction as you swat at him and tell him to put it back. only for him to sneak it back into the cart and you death glare him.

If you need to rant, he resumes the whole “omg girl, period.” personality. he loves gossip and he loves doing facemasks with you as you talk shit and drama about your coworkers.

he's so “wait I have to tell my gf this” bro will literally be on a mission and gets a cut? “I have to tell (Y/N).” the room exploded? would take a selfie and send it to you, if possible. sees a weird shaped potato at the grocery store? Sends a picture. Falls down the stairs? you're getting a picture of his broken foot. hard? here's a dick pic just for you babe

uses the same hydroflask water bottle that’s dented, has sticker residue and chipping on all side. “It’s reusable, that’s the point” he claims. you're not sure if he’s ever washed it and you certainly aren’t going to open it and find out for him.

1K notes · View notes

pupkashi · 8 months ago

Note

hiii can you do reader falling asleep at desk while studying and Gojo finds them?

hi hi !! i hope you enjoy this little sweet piece <3

it’s 4:38 am when satoru walks through the front door of your shared home, slipping his shoes off quietly and gently setting his keys down. he listens for any movement as he puts his jacket on the coat rack and makes his way into the kitchen.

satoru smiles when he sees some food you’d left out for him, heating it up and eating it quickly. he figures your asleep already, taking the liberty to shower and change in the restroom downstairs rather than the one in the bedroom so as not to wake you.

he expects to be greeted by a dark bedroom, with you asleep in bed or at least groggily greeting him as you sit up with the blanket drowning you. he doesn’t expect to see the light spilling from under the door, making him frown when he opens the door and sees the empty bed.

one look to his left answers all his questions.

on your laptop was a lecture video, still playing, notes sprawled around you as you peacefully slept against your now locked tablet.

he cringes a bit at the position your were in, knowing for a fact you’d have neck pain in the morning. satoru pauses your lecture video, starting it over and putting your laptop to charge.

“sweetheart, cmon let’s get to bed” he whispers, feathery touches gently bringing you back from your unconscious state. he’s quick to scoop you into his arms, carrying you as if you were feather light and placing you on the bed.

you open your eyes slowly, realizing you were no longer at your desk as you watch satoru put your things away for you, neatly organizing your paper notes and plugging in your tablet, switching your desk lamp off.

when he turns, he’s greeted by you sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “good morning sweetheart” he whispers, kissing your forehead and coaxing you up, “cmon let’s get your contacts out and your teeth brushed.”

“what time is it?” you mumble, not bothering to fight him on studying more, seeing as though your battle with sleep had been lost long ago.

“almost 5 i think” he says, handing you your toothbrush as he grabs his. “thought you said you were gonna sleep early today” you don’t even need to look at him to see the pout on his glossy lips.

“was gonna, but then i realized it was a lot more material than i anticipated and ended up staying up” you mumble, “well i guess not staying up since i fell asleep.” satoru giggles softly, holding your hair as you rinse your mouth.

the two of you are in bed in the matter of minutes, satoru now in only boxers and you in one of his white t shirts that fits way too big on you. you let your head rest in the crook on his neck, hand finding its way around to the nape of his hair, messing with the damp snowy hair that found purchase there.

satoru all but purrs at the feeling, letting his hand run softly up and down your back. “you need to take more breaks, sweets” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. you only hum in response, not bothering to open your eyes.

“shouldn’t be sleeping at your desk when there’s a bed as good as this one waiting for you” he’s looking down at you with a pout, and you can feel his gaze on you.

after a couple seconds you maneuver yourself to look at your lover, “how about when you work late I’ll try and be in bed by three, so you don’t have to worry your pretty head over me” you reason, sweetening him up by pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“three is so late” he huffs, letting himself indulge in your kisses. you roll your eyes at him, sitting up and straddling his hips to better kiss his cheeks.

“would you rather it be four?” you ask, making him quickly shake his head. “three it is then,” satoru catches your lips in his, smiling as you almost immediately kiss him back.

the two of you break away when you’ve ran out of breath, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly. “alright time to go to sleep” he mumbles, kissing your lips gently once more before you’re rolling off him and laying on your side, curling into him.

satoru is quick to get comfortable next to you, letting himself get as close to you as possible before his eyes are slowly closing.

the sun will rise in a short number of minutes, and it’s warm rays will kiss the two of you. but for now you snuggle into satoru’s warm embrace, smiling as his strong biceps work as your makeshift pillow, the smell of his body wash filling your nose.

for now you listen to him tell you about his day rather than recorded lectures, drawing circles subconsciously on his chest rather than in your notebook as you slowly doze off the steady beating of his heart.

masterlist

1K notes · View notes

fictionalmenxyn · 1 month ago

Text

Frat!Rafe x Sorority!Reader Scenarios

You were lying on your bed with Rafe. Rafe on top of you as you both made out. Your lips moving in sync as you both started to get into a heated make out session. Rafe’s forearms on either side of you on the bed as he somewhat cages you in. He starts to move his lips down and across your jaw and starts to go to your neck. When all of a sudden. Your bedroom door has three large bangs followed with a “open up it’s the fbi!”. Rage groaned as he pulls his lips away from your neck. Knowing exactly who it is he called back “I left the frat today to have some alone time! Why the fuck are you two here?!” You tried to hold your laugh back. Knowing it was Topper and Kelce. They could never go too long without Rafe. The door opened ever so slightly. Topper spoke “you two decent??” You smirked and answered “yes, Top-” Rafe quickly puts a hand over your mouth “No! Both completely naked! Do not come in!” Kelce let out a whistle while Topper spoke “ah! We know Y/n’s telling the truth… can we come in please…?” Both Topper and Kelce dragging out the ‘please’. Yep, they are indeed, the cockblocks. Why? Cause Rafe is in a stable relationship and they are still on the hook ups. Also it’s funny to see Rafe annoyed according to them.

You were in the middle of class when you felt something small hit the side of your head. You rolled your eyes at the small piece of paper. Knowing where this was going. You opened the paper and instantly recognised your boyfriend’s handwriting. Rafe wrote ‘he sweet girl, the love of my life, my rock, my everything… can you get me canes when you and the girls go??? PLEASE??’ You smirked and rolled your eyes. Typical Rafe. And also typical you for still getting him canes.

He’s in the shower, using your speaker you left over a couple days ago. What he didn’t know was that you came over to retrieve said speaker. As you got closer to his room you heard very familiar music. Very. Very. Familiar…. Oh the little shit! He signed into your Spotify account to listen to your white chick music. No wonder you could hear Brittany spears and Will.I.Am. You opened his en-suite door quietly. You could hear him faintly singing along ‘scream and shout, and let it all out.. scream and shout-” you pulled back the curtain “RAFE!” He jumped a mile. Almost slipping in the soap suds in the bottom of the shower “JESUS CHRIST!” You laugh “nope not him, but the fuck are you doing singing into my Spotify??” You knew why. He definitely didn’t wanna see all the football guys seeing a playlist on his phone saying ‘which chick tunes’.

It was girls night at the sorority. All of you cozied up on the couches and watching your romcoms or action movies. Whatever you all could agree on, you watched. Then you hear the front door opening and a familiar “Honey I’m home!” You rolled your eyes as the girls laughed at Rafe’s entry. All the frat boys from his frat have arrived. They all approached, wearing comfy clothes. Since they all probably slept in their boxers and didn’t wanna just wear that in front of all the girls. They all come and sit by either their girlfriend or a friend. Rafe moved to cuddle into you. Yep, you can say bye bye to ‘girls’ night and say hello to ‘girls watch movies while the guys commentate or complain when the boy is being a bitch to the girl romcom’ night. Good luck.

Rafe had set up a small ‘date’ for you both. Going to the near-by beach. He parked up his pick up. He pulled back the hard top cover to the trucks bed. Revealing pillows, blankets and a blow up mattress. You smiled at his little date idea. You both laid in the bed of the truck. His arm around you as you both watched the waves. Chatting about everything and anything. And thankfully this time there was no Topper or Kelce to interrupt. Good thinking Rafe.

Rafe was rummaging through his closet looking for his old jersey. He was planning on wearing it to the gym. It was old and he wouldn’t need it for football. So it came in handy. Well, it would’ve. If it was in his closet. He groaned and rolled his eyes. First he thought about how it’s been sitting in the laundry for a week and he completely forgot to wash it. Then he remembered you did his laundry the other day since he was at practice till very late. He knew it was a sweet gesture. Too sweet to be true. Why? Cause you did it to subtly steal his jersey and a few other shirts. As usual. So. As expected. He pulled out his phone and face timed you. He saw you laying on your bed when you answered. He flashed his lopsided smile “hey baby, you okay?” You smiled softly and nodded “yeah, I’m okay, you?” He nodded as he ran his head over his head “yeah, I am… but I’ve seemed to notice a few things kissing in my closet…” you raised an eyebrow. “Missing? What’ve you done now?” He was quick to defend “me?!” You chuckled and nodded. He looked at you for a moment with pure silence. He then brown the silence. “Baby… could have my old jersey… please? I need it for the gym…” you smiled softly “well… since you asked so nicely, I guess you could have it…. If you do… in return, I get it back nice and clean?” He smirked and shook his head “that’s a hard bargain, sweetheart… but sure, I guess I could return it to its ‘rightful owner’…”. You smiled proudly. Yea! You did it. You nodded “deals settled, I’ll see you later. Love ya!” He chuckled “love you too, dummy..”

403 notes · View notes

jjenthusee · 4 months ago

Text

Subtle Stitches

jason todd x reader

A/N: i had an idea then it kinda spiraled? idk if in a good or bad way but i kept adding more and more. i’m also so exhausted from day to day life so this is to comfort myself HAHAHA so ENJOY :D

Tags: fluff, domestic jason, silly jason, toxic jason if u squint but i’m blind to that 😌 and slight angst but all is well :)

You tiredly started putting clothes in the washer, throwing mixed pieces of clothing from your pile and Jason’s pile.

Colors were first, a mixture of fabrics placed in the machine.

After emptying the laundry basket, you remembered the shirt you threw on the floor from this morning. A bad habit you’ve started to pick up as you rushed to get to work on time.

Unsure of the precise outfit you wanted, multiple changes, then changing back into the original outfit, it gave you a pile of clothes thrown last minute.

You grabbed the shirt off the floor.

It wasn’t dirty necessarily, but now you wanted to wash it.

On your way back from the bathroom, you noticed a spare sock thrown sadly outside the door.

Then a completely different lone sock in your bedroom and a pair of pants you left to air-dry, but never bothered to put away still on the dining chair.

You gotta work on this bad habit you’ve developed, but after working all day and getting home late, you hadn’t been able to give yourself any down time, let alone complete any chores.

You hadn’t even seen Jason. Only giving him quick morning forehead kisses before work as he sleepily tried to cling onto your waist.

Wrapping a strong arm around you, locking you permanently to his side.

You had no idea how his sheer strength kept you in place as he lazily laid on the bed, but after much convincing that you had to fulfill your portion of the rent and several kisses to Jason’s face, did he finally let you go.

As much as it pained you to leave, you loved the wrinkled clothes left by his adamance to throw you back on the mattress next to him.

It felt like every weekday, he was getting closer to convincing you to drop everything, ditch the city, go off-grid and live deep in the woods surviving off berries and spring water, but alas you silently trudged yourself to the bus stop.

You left like a soldier going off to war, sworn to duty while their partner, like Jason, held their tears and waved a white handkerchief as the city bus wisped you away to 8+ hours of labor.

Both of your schedules, opposite of one another, never aligned. Jason swung the city in the peak of the night, under the stars and amongst the ongoing sirens, but you had the most torturous criminal in all of Gotham, a 9-5. It waited for you, forbade you from staying out too late.

You once joked to Jason over dinner that he should leave a small token of…warning to your boss, for a needed day off, but when Jason didn’t laugh and comfort you like you expected, you made sure to make him pinky promise he wouldn’t physically or mentally harm your boss.

When he wouldn’t wrap his pinky with yours, you refused to eat the warm meal he cooked. After dismissing every possible way he could make your boss beg, he reluctantly sworn the great promise of pinkies to not do any permanent harm in favor of you eating.

With a worrisome look, you took slow bites, watching Jason act like he didn’t create new torture tactics at a family dining table.

After another additional verbal reassurance from the man and an unconvincing sigh, he only agreed that if you promised to never miss a goodbye kiss before work, then he would follow any rule you set.

So far, no broken promises and no mass emails about a sudden company shut down due to threats, so it was a win?

Even then, they could force you to work remote, so unless Jason unrelentingly asks Tim to shut down all power and service in the area, you still had to be a working citizen.

The commute to and from work already took up most of your minimal free time, so it felt like you woke up to work, ate a quick meal, then fell asleep to wait for the next work day.

Luckily in the rare moments, Jason got to get a quick kiss on your shoulder before going out for patrol. Usually you were passed out on the couch, but with a beautifully handwritten note from your lover, you woke up on the bed thanks to Jason carrying you.

You needed a Jason recharge soon, but that had to be until the weekend and for work to even out before you got that luxury.

While the clothes were being washed, you started a small water to clean the dishes.

Soapy bubbles coating your hands as you washed the utensils that Jason used to make you daily lunches.

You almost cry at every lunch, adoring the beautiful meal that graced you, made with the scarred and gentle hands of Jason.

With the last pot placed on the drying rack, you sent one last text for the night.

You: clothes in the wash, was gonna put them in the dryer but i’m frog blinking and i need to sleep \(o-0)/

jay: ok, got the dishes when i get back :)

You: already washed them :(((

jay: how dare u be a responsible adult

You: i’ll repent 😔

jay: 12 years in the slammer, community service, and a lunch date with me on saturday

You: yes sir 🫡 i promise to reduce my sentence for good behavior

As you finished brushing your teeth, you noticed Jason’s jacket thrown on the couch.

You were surprised he didn’t take it out on patrol, but after the last stabbing incident there were relatively large holes in the sleeves and pocket.

You were grateful that most of the damage was in the jacket and not Jason, but he still kept it.

After looking at its sad state, you offered to shop for a new jacket together, but Jason was reluctant. Saying it could be fixed.

With a small smile, you grabbed the coat, grabbing your mending kit that you got for free from a hotel you stayed at a while back.

You messily stitched the first hole, but after finding the right pace, muscle memory kicked in and you finished up the stitching.

Not the best work, but you hoped the dark color would hide any mishaps and make it seamless.

When the handiwork was done, you left the jacket as you saw it and went to bed.

—

When work eased up, you almost got to see Jason for a full evening.

You cuddled on the couch, your legs over his, leaning on the pillows.

Engrossed in the movie, but time for patrol was near and Jason had to move your legs and get up to get his gear on.

When he reappeared from the bedroom, you saw the mended jacket back on his broad shoulders.

With a quick kiss goodbye, a quiet shut from the window, you finished the movie. Happy that you managed to save the jacket that Jason refused to let go.

After a couple nights, work was tougher on your body than usual and the jacket was back on the couch. A new tear on the sleeve that you closed up.

The several patchwork was starting to concern you.

You have to convince him that he needed a new jacket. One without tears preferably.

“Jay, I’m running out of thread. I think it’s time.” You tiredly held the worn out jacket in your lap. Poking the needle into the fabric, careful to not prick yourself.

“No, it’s still got some life. Since you’ve sewn it, it’s never looked better.” Jay washed the dishes.

“I’ve heard Roy ask if you tried to sew it yourself. I know it’s not the best work, but even you’re more meticulous than I am.” You knotted the end of the thread, cutting off the excess.

“Roy can’t even tie his shoes, so don’t listen to him.” Jason turned on the faucet, letting the water flow into the sink.

“I know we’re both busy, but I can run to the store after work to buy you one. I saw a really nice one that would look great, It’s not far and I can take the next bus—“ You tried to reason.

“Absolutely not, you already know how I feel about you taking that route so late.” Jason scrubbed the plate.

“I’ll go with a coworker, we do leave in groups anyway. It’s just once—“ You sighed, folding the jacket.

“No, this isn’t something you can convince me on.” Jason placed the glass plate down, a little more harshly than he wanted, but he grabbed a mug without stopping. “I have to meet Babs and Steph to talk about the recon tomorrow, I won’t be in the area.” Sternness filled Jason’s voice, unconvinced.

“Jason, we’ve talked about this, I can go—“

“I don’t want to risk it.” Jason held the cup, frustration in his eyes as he stared it down.

“But, I want to do this for you. We haven’t—“ You pushed, exhaustion making your patience thin.

“I said no!” Jason raised voice, shutting yours down.

The mug shattered in the sink. Jason flinched as if even he was shocked by his own reaction.

The faucet continuously ran water as all noise surrounding you stopped. Like it was inconsiderate to the tension that built in your apartment.

You sat for a moment before walking over to shut the water off.

“I’m—I’m so—“ Jason fumbled.

You looked into the sink, at the aftermath of the pieces of the mug that had snipped his fingers.

You calmly grabbed the sponge soaking up Jason’s blood as he stood there, letting you maneuver his body like a puppet.

You can rinse and sanitize the dishes later, but you grabbed a kitchen towel. Letting Jason sit at the dining table as you patched him up.

“I’m not mad, Jay. I was just surprised.” You disinfected his cuts, no reaction from Jason, probably from years of experienced pain. Years of trying to patch himself up.

It saddened you.

You didn’t realize the privilege of hating the pain of paper cuts and not stab wounds. Hating the sting of alcohol, not digging out bullets out of your skin.

“I know we haven’t seen each other and I’ve been missing you.” You cleaned up the miscellaneous bandage wrappers and sat in front of Jason. “But, you’re more stubborn than usual about this new jacket.”

You looked at Jason who was avoiding your eyes, rubbing at the bandages covering his skin.

With a sigh, he reached for your hand. A silent reassurance as he found the words.

“I’ve missed you too. That jacket—it’s been with me since I’ve met you. I’ve had it too long to just get rid of it.” He admitted, fluffy hair drooping the more he talked.

He continued.

“It’s just…hard to part with it. When I saw the new stitches, it felt good that a part of you was with me on patrol. We’ve also been so busy, I can only see you for a split second before one of us leaves. I know you wanna replace it, but…I need it.” Jason rubbed at your knuckles.

You put your hands on top of Jason’s, reciprocating the rubs as you listened.

“I didn’t know.” You gazed up to Jason, who hung his head down.

Vulnerability was a step that both of you had to learn. You focused too much on Jason, constantly forgetting about your own feelings and Jason still needed help in rightfully expressing his emotions.

You had barely made time to enjoy each other and despite living with one another, you weren’t updated in each other’s lives.

“I’m sorry.” You pecked Jason’s hands.

“Why are you apologizing? I raised my voice and broke a cup.” Jason leaned forward, hesitantly bringing his face and body closer to yours.

You stayed still, not to frighten his advances, to tell him it was okay.

“I would’ve known about this if I had made time for us. I’ve been so focused on work that I haven’t been able to even do simple chores.” You touched your forehead to Jason’s. “I’m so tired. I just want to sleep in next to you and go for a lunch date. But even that’s asking for too much, I guess.”

The vulnerability covered the two of you in a single blanket. Protecting and helping both of you finally be honest.

“No, no, don’t apologize for that. I was ready to help you in any way I could.” Jason kissed your eyelids as you closed them, the exhaustion slowly easing from your bones as you kept contact with him.

He held your face, hands wrapped in bandages.

“All I ask is you take care of yourself.” Jason whispered. Watching your lips, watching your eyes.

“All I need is my Jason recharge. I’m on empty.” You lightly chuckled, sleepiness apparent in your voice.

“I think I could spare some time.” Jason teased, kissing the corner of your lips.

You nudged his shoulder playfully.

“Shut up and kiss—.” You breathlessly pulled at Jason’s shirt.

Before you could even finish your request, Jason leaned in, using his thumb to rest on your chin, opening your mouth for him.

The rhythm was slow.

Jason always started like that, letting you control how far and how soon you wanted him.

Your face heated, letting feeling take over.

Your grip on his shirt got tighter.

Jason pulled your chair closer.

When it wasn’t close enough, he grabbed you to sit on his lap.

Effortlessly, you rested yourself on his thighs, making your body flush with his.

Grabbing at the roots of his hair, you tried to inhale his hums.

Your imaginary battery was slowly filling, maybe you would need to take this a step further for a full recharge.

As Jason’s grip got stronger on your skin, your breaths louder, and the more you pulled at his hair, he got more restless.

In one lift, Jason got you off his lap, laying you onto the dining table.

He leaned his body between your legs.

You watched his beautiful flush face as he lifted your shirt, his hands just as flushed as he kissed down your abdomen.

“Jay, I think I’m too tired to help you.” You breath hitched.

“Relax, this is my recharge too.” Jason leaned his cheek on the inside of your thighs, kissing the sensitive skin before a call rung from his phone.

It vibrated repeatedly as Jason continued to keep his attention on you.

When the ringing stopped, you could focus again.

Then the same ringtone started again as Jason’s face scrunched.

“Dammit, I’m gonna kill whoever—“ Jason reluctantly walked away from the table you laid on.

“You better be on the verge of dying, so I can go over there and finish the job, Dickwad.” Jason watched you sit up.

Another huff came out of his mouth as he was not pleased that he wasn’t getting his alone time with you.

Then your phone rung from the chair you were previously on.

Your stupid boss had decided to call about some other task he thought was too important for him.

With reluctance, you answered.

Both of you were disappointedly looking at each other as you were both occupied.

When both calls ended, you silently stared at each other.

You sat on the edge of the table and Jason stood in front of you.

He offered you a hand and you slowly fell into Jason. Burying your face into his chest.

“Sadly, we’re both needed somewhere. I think we need to take a rain check.”

“Can’t believe I have to set up an appointment to get laid.” Jason sighed into you.

You laughed out loud.

“Maybe if a miracle happened tomorrow, but we have the weekend.” You kissed Jason one last time.

—

The next morning, you woke up passed your alarm. Jason’s muscular arms and his even breaths were too soothing that it blocked out the repeated ringing.

The bus was arriving in 15 minutes.

You rushed outta bed, grabbing your keys, putting on mismatching socks on the floor.

Jason lazily perched his head up at all your movement, absently watching you run around.

“Sweethe—“ He called out.

“Shit, did I finish the report?” You ran to grab your laptop.

“My lo—“

“My watch! Crap, I didn’t iron my shirt for the meeting today.” You grabbed your bag.

“What about—“ Jason tried to interrupt.

“I gotta go, but let’s eat out tonight? I’ll call you when I get off.” You ran out the door, blowing air kisses to Jason.

You barely managed to get on the bus before the doors shut and you were scrambling to get yourself in a seat.

After a deep breath, you were gonna make it to work.

A late start, but you made it. You stepped off the bus, walking to the large building that made your jaw drop the first time you laid eyes on it, but it didn’t seem all that spectacular after a couple years of seeing it.

As you were walking, several people were rushing out the building.

Crowds walking out in large strides, taking what they could as papers fumbled out the doors.

You watched in confusion.

What sick villain was wreaking havoc on your building at eight in the morning?

You were about to turn around when your coworker bumped into you.

“Thank goodness you’re out. I was worried when I couldn’t find you.” They grabbed your arm, giving you a once over as you stood there.

“What happened?” You looked up at the building. It seemed fine.

“We gotta go, they got the boss and I don’t wanna be next.” Your coworker pushed you across the street, trying to get you farther from the sea of people shoving you outta the way.

“What?”

“I don’t know, but it all happened so fast, then all the alarms started and ya know when shit starts happening you gotta get outta there. One moment I was making scans, then the boss’ computer flew right by head and his glass walls were shattering. I saw the back of a big red guy and I just got this job, so I ran. I only need to see the back of Nightwing, if you know what I mean—“ You coworker rambled.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening at the realization.

“That son of a—“ You raised your voice before your phone rung from your pocket.

You angrily tapped the accept button before you were yelling at the invisible person, yanking your arm out of your coworkers.

“You crazy motherfucker—“ You swerved your body back toward the building, tension built up in your bones that you could only angrily walk back to the building in chaos.

Tons of employees dodging you.

“You forgot your lunch, so I decided to deliver it myself. I hope I got the right floor—“ Jason sung into the phone, walking past a suited man kneeling on the floor, glass digging into his knees.

“What are you doing?!” You marched to the front entrance, gripping your phone as you shoved the doors open.

Jason walked over to sit in the swivel chair, pushing himself to spin once and throw his boots on the overpriced desk. Not caring about dirtying the papers on it.

“Don’t worry, my love. We all make mistakes. We can all be forgetful.”

“What?!” You pushed the elevator button, waiting for the doors to open, but the wait only made you angrier.

“You broke a promise, sweetheart.” Jason spun a pen on his finger, letting gravity and motion balance the pen perfectly.

“What are you talking about.” You entered the elevator and pushed the button for your floor.

“You can’t even remember.” Jason glanced over to your boss still on the floor, motioning with his hands dramatically pointing to the phone. “What am I going to do? This is ridiculous, right?”

Despite your boss not being able to hear the conversation, he fearfully nodded his head quickly, not quite understanding why the Red Hood made a visit in broad daylight. Sweat beating on his forehead.

As Jason counted the elevator rings for every floor you passed, he smiled while on you stayed on the line.

Covering the bottom half of the phone, Jason looked at your boss, his helmet staring down the man.

“Beat it.” Jason commanded, not an ounce of the sweet playfulness he spoke with before.

Your boss was frozen, scared and confused as he looked back at the vigilante sitting in his chair.

In one motion, Jason nodded at the door, never saying another word as your boss ran out the door, throwing his body into the emergency exit stairwell, hopping down the steps.

Now with the man gone, Jason strolled to the elevator.

“You better be gone when I get there Jason Peter Todd—“ As soon as the elevator doors opened, Jason grabbed you, swinging you into his arms as he lifted his helmet and passionately kissed you in the aftermath he created.

In one woozy turn, you were back on your feet as you tried to process everything.

“Now that you fulfilled your promise, I would tell you to have a nice day at work, but, well…” Jason glanced around the office floor. Some lights burnt out and others flickered. You watched as glass littered the floor and chairs were thrown as everyone fled their way out. “You might be out for a couple days. The food is probably cold anyway, so let’s go out for lunch instead.” Jason grabbed you by your waist as he led you to a window he smashed open.

He smugly took your hand and swung your arms as he spoke, overjoyed.

“Watch your step, please.”

“You’re so dead when we get home.” You grabbed onto his arm, afraid to look out the edge of the building.

“What’s another death?” Jason held you tightly to his side. “If it’s by your hands, I’d face death any day.” He looked at you through the red helmet, his words modulated. It would’ve been swoon worthy if he didn’t just evacuate your entire work building, probably humiliated your boss, and costed you your job.

“I’m for sure fired.” You hit your head against Jason’s chest plate.

“Tim wiped all the service and power a mile out. Cameras stopped working before I even stepped in here. I tampered with the security myself, a personal touch. It’s like you weren’t even here, besides your boss isn’t so innocent, but Dick’s got him, he owes me for last night.” Jason’s gloves rested on your sides.

“How did you even convince him?” You couldn’t believe Jason would even ask for the help.

“Blackmail.”

You didn’t believe a second of anything that came out of Jason’s mouth.

After you gave a blank face to Jason, his helmet was looking back at you until he finally broke.

“Fine, it was a humiliating picture of Bruce I’ve kept for the perfect opportunity.”

“You risked all that because I forgot a goodbye kiss?” You raised an eyebrow.

“That you promised.” Jason emphasized.

You could only laugh out of disbelief.

“Fair enough.” You looked out toward the blue sky, wind picking up against your face at this height. “Your banned from any kisses for a week for this.”

“Sorry, wind is picking up!” Jason fell out the window with you in his arms. Grappling hook dragging your bodies across the city.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #writing

1K notes · View notes

wildesqdreams · 6 months ago

Text

canceled plans, sweet love

summary - sometimes you have to experience pain again and again, even if it's caused by friends, until you find that person who would fall into tartarus for you.

pairing - percy jackson x fem!reader.

warnings - angst (not because of our man), but percy saves the day, kissing/making out.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: i wrote this in one sitting, why? because this actually happened to me. am i okay? no, i'm not... but i hope u guys like it!

you know what's the biggest problem with selfless people? they usually end up as idiots, lying in bed listening to radiohead and still WONDERING how they can make others feel better.

it was 3pm. she was supposed to be back at 7. percy knew it, so he went out skateboarding with his new colleagues that he has befriended.

y/n knew it, too. she had planned the day out. well her and her friends. a lake day, a long needed reunion, since she didn't see them for quite a while.

the thing is she was so sentimental and she was waiting when she could finally see her friends again. and as she was told, they were too. but then why did the plans suddenly change? and why did suddenly everyone have to leave 5 hours earlier than intended?

a tear rolled down her face, and she hid her face in the blanket.

god, she felt so stupid. always listening. always trying. always waiting. ALWAYS CHASING OTHERS. but in the end, being left alone like a piece of shit.

it may seem dramatic. but when all your lifetime you have been the one running after and being ditched, it just makes you feel so embarrassing and lonely. so fucking lonely.

she felt something vibrate. she reached for her phone under the pillow, hoping for some apologies, but all she got was a notification from the weather app. y/n put her phone back down on the bed, closing her eyes, trying to fall asleep. trying to run away from her clouded mind.

some minutes passed, and she heard the apartment doors open. there was some shuffling before she heard a voice yell from the foyer, "hey, baby, you're already back?!"

percy.

the girl felt the nerves in her body come back alive. how stupid. such an idiot. dumb. dumb. dumb.

"weren't you supposed to be at home much later," she heard him come to the bedroom, "not that i'm complaining or anything," percy set the keys on the cupboard in the room.

y/n just hummed.

"ey," the boy went to the bed, sitting down, where she was lying on her side. he placed his hand on her upper thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb, "did something happen?"

"no, everything is fine," she put on a small smile, as she sat up, percy's hand sliding up and down her leg, that was covered with the blanket, "so, how was your day? have fun?"

percy squeezed her thigh before putting his hand on the bed beside it, the other reaching for her hair, pushing it behind her ear, "baby," he kissed her cheek, that was stained with tears, resting his other hand on the other side of the bed, traping her between his arms, "don't lie to me."

"perce, i'm fine, really."

"then why have you been crying?"

y/n shrugged, "watched a sad movie."

"and why are you home so early?"

"got bored, decided that i wanted to leave," she tried to act unbothered, but percy could see right through her. of course he could.

"y/n," he sat closer, as he put his arms around her, "fuck em," he pulled her closer.

she tried to smile, but tears started to spill again, "again, no big deal."

she heard him sigh, "i hate when you just act like it's okay, when it's not, " he rubbed his hand up and down her back, "i just wished you had called me, i would be here in a heartbeat-"

"percy-"

"i'm serious, y/n," he pulled back, resting his hands on her cheeks, "i'm here, baby, always. i'm not gonna just throw you away. if you need me, i'm here," he rested his forehead against hers, "those idiots aren't worth your tears. gods, pretty, you deserve so much better than them."

she smiled, tears still in her eyes. the girl gave him a peck on his nose, "i'll live, i mean, i have you. that's more than i could ask for."

she felt his hands go down to her waist, lying her back down, as he climbed on top of her, giving her soft kisses on her neck, "that's right, baby. just remeber that," he trailed his lips up her neck, "don't want you forgeting what you mean to me," her hands went to his hair, as his kisses traveled up to her mouth, "i love you so much, y/n."

"i love you, perce," the boy captured her lips into a passionate kiss.

but the best thing about selfless people? they are patient enough to wait for the right people to come into their lives and make all the tears and pain be replaced with endless love.

"but really," she mumbled into the kiss, "how did it go?"

percy just laughed, "let's just say we both should just stick with each other," and with that, he placed his lips back on hers.

taglist: @pleasingregulus

#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson fic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson angst #percy jackson fluff #pjo x you #pjo x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo fanfic #pjo #pjo fandom

607 notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 1 year ago

Text

soft cuddles with ateez

park seonghwa

he’s sitting on the floor, very intensely reaching the instructions to his new lego set that you bought him

there’s no reaction when you sit next to him to watch as his pretty fingers attach the pieces to one another

it takes about 5 minutes for you to lean your head on his shoulder and snuggle your cheek into his shoulder

he chuckles lightly, but just carries on with his lego, not giving you the attention you so clearly crave

it takes another 5 minutes for you to get bored and try to move away but seonghwa won’t let you

he finally takes his attention away from his lego set when you lift your head and begin to stand up

with a discontented hum, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you straight into his lap

“and where do you think you’re going, hm?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, “stay with me while i make this, yeah?”

you agree and rest your head on him once more, except this time, comforted by his warm cuddles

kim hongjoong

you get a text from seonghwa at around midnight asking you to go and rescue your boyfriend from the studio

you agree, feelings of excitement and annoyance bubbling up within you simultaneously

excitement because you get to see your boyfriend but annoyance because he was overworking himself… again

it takes 10 minutes to walk to his studio and by the time you get there, you just want some warmth

you walk straight up to his studio, bypassing the receptionist who knows you well at this point, and knock on the door

“the doors open!” he calls out, presumably not wanting to leave his desk for even a second, “oh, hey baby!” he smiles the moment he sees you

you don’t answer him simply ambling over to him and dropping onto his lap

he chuckles and holds you close before going back to his work, idly chit-chatting with you every so often

“your skin is cold, baby. did you walk here?” you nod in response, “you should’ve got a taxi! i’ll finish soon and then we can go home and get warm, okay?”

you fall asleep on his lap before he gets chance to take you home, and the two of you end up sleeping on the sofa in his studio

jeong yunho

he’s been gaming for what seems like hours and you miss him

yes, you might literally be on your bed, 2 metres away from his desk, but you miss him so bad!

and no matter how many times you call him over and beg him to pay attention to you, you just get the same response

“just one more game and then i’m all yours, honey!”

it was either a really long game, or it was all lies…

you eventually get tired of waiting and scramble out of bed on your tired legs

he doesn’t even flinch when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your limbs around him in a koala-esque fashion

in fact, the most reaction you get is a deep chuckle in your ear and a kiss to your cheek before he goes back to his game

it doesn’t take long for him to finish and say goodbye to whoever it was on the other side of his headset

he just wraps his long arms around your waist and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence on his gaming chair for a while…

kang yeosang

you’ve had a bad day at work and all you want to do is get home and sit on the couch with your boyfriend

you have so much to complain about and yeosang is such a good listener and feeling his arms around you as you complain would be the best right now

but you get home and yeosang is nowhere to be seen

in fact, the lights are turned off and the living room is completely silent

you sigh, realising your boyfriend must not be home yet, and kick your shoes off before carrying yourself to your bedroom

except when you get to your bedroom, you can’t help but notice a mop of bleached hair splayed across one of your pillows and a yeosang shaped lump under the quilt

you smile, but you don’t say a word as you crawl into bed beside him

he wakes up just enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest

he mumbles something that sounds kind of like, “how was your day?” but you can’t tell

“better now i’m with you,” you reply anyway

choi san

you’re only just awake by the time san comes back from the gym

you open your eyes to him in front of the mirror, checking his own progress as the sweat covering his skin glistens in the soft morning light

“pretty,” you mutter as you watch his muscles flex

he jumps in surprise and spins around to face you with a look of shock

“babe, i didn’t even know you were awake,” he smiles and you can’t help but get all giggly as his dimples show, “just give me a minute to shower and then i’ll come give you your morning cuddles, okay?”

normally you’d agree, but for some reason you’re feeling extra clingy

“come cuddle me now, sannie,” you say as you hold your arms out to him

“i’m sweaty, babe,” he chuckles, “i’ll get the sheets dirty

he gives in when you pout and look at him like you’re about to burst into tears if he doesn’t cuddle you

“sheets can be changed,” you say as he lays with half of his body on top of you, “this is more important right now…”

song mingi

it’s your day off and yet you’ve spent all of it bored inside of your apartment waiting for your boyfriend to get home from work

first it was supposed to be 1pm, then you get a text letting you know it’d probably be closer to 2pm, and then 3pm

its 6pm now, and you’re staring at the front door as if that’s going to make your boyfriend walk through it any quicker

as sad as it makes you that he’s not with you, you know it’s hardly his fault that works been busy recently

you finally turn away from the door with a sigh and lie down on the sofa

seconds later, you hear the lock click open and a tired sounding mingi announce himself

“i’m home, sweetheart,” he grunts as he kicks his shoes off and slams the door behind him, “sorry i’m l-”

he gets cut off with a grunt when you leap at him and attach your body to his in a tight hug

your thighs are tightly wrapped around his waist and your arms hold onto his neck for dear life

“hi, baby,” he chuckles into your hair, “missed me, did you?”

jung wooyoung

he’s sick and whilst you’re trying not to get sick yourself, there’s only so much whining you can put up with before it gets insufferable

it starts with him whining about the soup not being warm enough, so you give him a tight lipped grin before replacing it

then suddenly he’s cold and begging for more blankets so of course, you oblige before the sound of his aegyo drives you insane

after you bring back the blankets, he wants tucking in

you give him a look before doing as he asks all while he smirks at you

“somethings still missing, baby,” he pouts and points to his lips, “a kiss?”

“absolutely not,” you shake your head, “i’m not catching the black death just because you’re being whiny!”

“fine, but can you come and check my temperature?”

again, you oblige, but before you can even touch his forehead, he has a hand around your wrist and you’re toppling down onto the bed beside him

his vice-like grip suddenly finds its way around you and you suppose you just have to accept your fate and cuddle him back…

choi jongho

you haven’t felt great for a while but after an argument with a sibling and just an overall bad day, you decide to retreat to your bedroom with your boyfriends hoodie and a pint of icecream

he promised he’s be there once he finished eating with the rest of the guys, but you don’t know if you can wait that long so you send him a text

you don’t want to be a burden and make him think it’s too urgent, but you still want to make sure he knows you’re not feeling great, so it’s just something short and to the point

you don’t expect him too soon, but within 15 minutes you can hear the tell-tale sound of his spare key sliding into your front door

“i’m here, baby,” he calls as he shuts the door, “where are you?”

you don’t need to respond for him to know you’re in bed, and before you can get a word out he’s already poking his head around the door frame

he gives you a sympathetic pout as he sees your red-ringed eyes and quickly sheds himself of his more sophisticated clothing as he can be comfy as he crawls in beside you

his bare arms wrap around your waist and he brings you as close as humanly possible to his chest

“you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” he whispers as he pets the back of your head, “but just know that i’m here to listen if you ever want to.”

perhaps tomorrow, you decide as you nuzzle into his neck and let his strong form swaddle you

#ateez reactions #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #atz x reader #atz fanfic #atz scenarios #atz fluff

1K notes · View notes

pastryfication · 7 months ago

Note

Hey hey hey! So, I was wondering if you could work your magic on this request? We all know Oscar LOVES sleeping whenever he can but what if he has a girlfriend with quite frequent insomnia such as moi? Maybe the piece could be about him searching for all kinds of serious and wacky methods to help her sleep - white noise, sound apps, black out blinds, counting actual sheep, a cold bedroom etc and eventually something so simple such as snuggling together after he's washed her hair or something soppy works? Thank you, you're an angel!

thank u for the request!! i hope i did it justice but i have no idea how insomnia works so feel free to correct me if i’ve written something wrong 🫶

5 things that didn’t help you sleep and the 1 thing that actually did | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x insomniac!reader

warnings: mentions of insomnia and the use of melatonin

oscar piastri treasures every moment of sleep he can get. cuddling up under the covers, catching up on much-needed rest between races, training sessions and team meetings is his sanctuary, a place where he can recharge. it’s entirely different for you. sleep often feels elusive, insomnia visits you regularly, and after trying to take melatonin, you feel like there truly must be something wrong with you when you’re still left you tossing and turning while oscar dozes peacefully beside you.

one particularly restless night, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, you decide you’ve had enough. oscar, sensing your frustration, turns over and looks at you with sleepy but concerned eyes.

“another bad night?” he asks softly, voice groggy.

you nod, feeling guilty for disturbing his rest. “i just can’t seem to fall asleep.”

determined to help you find the peace he enjoys so effortlessly, oscar spends the next day researching every possible solution for insomnia, and he ends up with a list. 5 things that have helped others who are suffering from the same problem, and over the next few weeks, he convinced you to try it all, hoping to find the one thing that will finally help you sleep.

1. white noise

the first thing he tries is white noise. researching the best possible brand, he buys a white sound machine and sets it to a gentle hum when you go to sleep one night. the constant noise fills the room, creating a soothing background sound and drowning out any distractions.

it’s nice to lay and listen to, and at first, you think it might work. you close your eyes, snuggle into the covers to find the best position and takes oscar’s hand in yours.

you try, you really do try your best, to let the sound lull you to sleep. everything is nice and calm, but after a few nights, it’s clear that the constant noise only makes you more restless. you lie awake, feeling like you’re trapped in a static-filled void, and you just want to cry.

2. sound apps

oscar is quick to notice your disappointment, and he therefore quickly moves on to the next point on the list.

he downloads several sound apps on his phone, experimenting with everything from rainstorms to ocean waves to forest sounds. he tries different combinations, adjusting the volume and mixing the sounds in various ways, bringing out his inner dj to make you as comfortable as possible.

you appreciate the effort, but none of the sounds seem to do the trick. you lie awake, feeling more like you’re in a nature documentary than trying to sleep. the sounds that are supposed to be calming just keep you more alert, your mind unable to quiet down.

3. blackout blinds

oscar then orders blackout blinds, thinking that maybe the slightest hint of light is the culprit.

the blinds plunge the room into complete darkness, blocking out any external light. at first, you think it might work. the darkness is comforting and you hope it will help you relax, but instead of soothing you, the darkness feels oppressive. you lie there, eyes wide open, feeling the walls close in. the complete absence of light only makes you nervous and the two of you quickly have to give up on that as well.

4. counting sheep

you insisted that counting sheep was silly. there was no way it was going to work and you told oscar exactly that. he didn’t agree though, and with the use of his best puppy eyes, he convinced you to try.

he decides to buy a small stuffed sheep and as you lie in bed one night, he starts an impromptu counting session. you giggle at the sight of him hopping the little sheep across the bed.

“i don’t think this is gonna work.” you hold back a laugh as he makes the sheep take a particularly long jump across your duvet.

“not even if he gives you a little kiss?” he asks, holding back his own giggle as he moves up to you on the bed, making the sheep “kiss” you all over your stomach.

you laugh at the ticklish sensation, and the two of you have to realise that the sheep counting feels more like a silly game than a serious attempt to help you sleep.

5. a cold bedroom

the last thing on oscar’s quickly disappearing list is sleeping in a cold room.

to make that happen, he insists on making the bedroom as cold as a freezer. he cranks up the air conditioning and piles extra blankets on the bed so you don’t freeze to death.

the room quickly becomes chilly, and you snuggle under the covers, head on oscar’s chest as his arms snake around you, trying to regain some body heat. you’re really hoping the cold will help you relax, but you find yourself shivering more than drifting off. the cold air makes you uncomfortable, and instead of helping, it only adds to your restlessness.

the 1 thing that actually did help

after trying numerous different methods, you’re ready to just give up.

“maybe i should go to the doctors,” you eventually suggest. you wish the problem would go away by itself, but it doesn’t seem like it will.

oscar finds himself running out of ideas too, until something dawns to him one night when he’s on facetime with his mom.

entering your bedroom with a book clutched tightly in his hand, you raise an eyebrow at him. “so mom just left to read to read my sister a bed time story, and i thought: why don’t i read to you as well?” he suggests.

you raise an eyebrow, skeptical at the suggestion but at this point you’re willing to try anything.

oscar shuffles across the bed, helping you adjust so your head is pressed against his thigh as he begins to read. his voice soft and steady, keeping a calm pace to his words and you can’t deny that it’s nice.

he plays with your hair as he reads, gently running his fingers through the strands and massaging your scalp. the combination of his calming voice and the soothing sensation of his touch begins to work its magic.

you feel your body relax, the tension melting away. his words become a comforting background noise and his fingers in your hair provide a gentle, rhythmic motion. for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel yourself drifting off, your eyelids growing heavy.

oscar continues reading until he hears your breathing deepen and become steady. he smiles, closing the book quietly and turning off the light, but he doesn’t move, terrified to wake you after you’ve finally found the peace you desperately needed.

sitting against the headboard starts hurting his back, but he still stays beside you, his hand continuously playing with your hair, ensuring you stay asleep.

as the nights go by, oscar’s bedtime stories and hair-playing become your new routine. you find yourself looking forward to bedtime, knowing that sleep is no longer a battle but a peaceful journey.

in the end, it’s not the gadgets or apps that help you sleep, but instead oscar’s gentle presence and unwavering support. his love is your ultimate lullaby, guiding you into the restful sleep you’ve been longing for.

640 notes · View notes

sweetflanfiction · 1 month ago

Text

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 10

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9

• ··········· • ············ •

Two weeks have passed since the last time you saw Viktor. You had thought better than to go back to the Academy. Your mother had told you something was happening at Hextech. Something big. She had to stop you from making your way there and figure out why.

“It’s about the attack. Please stay as far from that investigation as possible.”

You made a note of the timeline from your world and this one. Rocket attack, memorial attack, Zaun’s incursion by Caitlyn, Caitlyn’s return sans Vi, Piltover under martial law.

Right now, only the attack on the Council room had happened.

“By saving Viktor, you might have disrupted everything else.” Your mother suggested while looking at your little board of timelines.

You had been using the office that was adjacent to your room at the penthouse for anything that needed secrecy. Viktor's notes, theories, and a chalkboard of the runes you knew. You hadn’t told your mother what they were, just told her ‘other dimension things,’ and she accepted it.

“The timeline fits... the events don’t... and I can’t see the endgame for that. Ambessa should have made her move by now…She needs Zaun and Piltover to butt heads. Viktor's demise doesn't change that.”

Your mother rolled her eyes at the general’s name. She met the woman once and had become very impressed by her until she mentioned that losing her family is the best motivation for bettering oneself. After that, your mother had just veered away from the general.

“Something might be holding her back.” Your mother cut a little piece of red string you were using and made a little bow with it.

“Or maybe she is just adding fuel to the fire she’s going to set.”

Someone knocked on the door of your room, and you both looked at each other, shrugging, not knowing who it could be.

“Yes?” you called, peeking your head through the door, and a familiar voice called your name.

You glanced at your mother, who was hurriedly getting up from the little loveseat and quickly walking to the door. You went back to the room and tidied up, pinning your mother's red ribbon to the corner of the corkboard.

“Essie, you have to leave the kid alone. They need to breathe.” You heard as you were locking up the room. You smiled at the sound and walked out to the bright corridor outside your bedroom.

“You should be aware that mother’s love language is closeness, Wylla.” You gave the visitor a one-shoulder shrug. “Well, I don’t mind, but you might.” Wyllah grinned, her sharp canines visible.

A beautiful, tall, and slender Vastaya woman stood, one hand placed on your mother’s shoulders. Her black cat-like ears were adorned with beautiful flowery jewelry matching the headband she had in her perfectly cut bob. She had freckled dark skin and the brightest green eyes you’d ever seen.

When you arrived here, she had been away on business. The day her airship landed on the hexgate, your mother had immediately asked her to come and meet you. Once she walked through the door, you wiggled your eyebrows at your mom suggestively, earning you a playful slap on the arm.

“Nah, it’s encouraged.” You chuckled. “Oh…that reminds me.” Wylla looked at you grinning. “A young gentleman is waiting for you in the living room.” “A young man?” Your mother asked, eyes widening. You just looked confused. “Do we know him?” “I’ll give you a hint. He is currently melting in the chair in front of the veranda.” You looked back at your mother. Was that supposed to mean anything? She smiled. “Viktor.”

The three of you walked to the living room, where Viktor was in fact sitting on one of the armchairs in the veranda. You looked back at Wyllah, and she shrugged.

“He seemed rather... off... in the elevator.” She said, and you nodded while walking to him.

“Vik?” He jumped slightly at his name being called and then turned back to you.

You gasped at his appearance. It was him, from your world, after his disease progressed. His eyes rimmed with dark circles, the bright amber color now dull, he didn’t just look tired. He looked exhausted. Worse... he looked in pain.

Oh, fuck it.

It took you two steps to stand next to him and crouch near him, your hands on the arm of the chair. You had to mentally stop yourself from taking his face in your hands. He looked worse up close.

His skin was pale, and his cheeks seemed hollowed out; his uniform was crinkled, and his hair was a mess. He had been stressed or anxious, and he hadn’t been taking care of himself because of it. That's how Viktor operated.

“Are you alright? Is it your lungs? Your leg? Is the bruise not healing?” You blurted out, knowing what happened last time he looked like that. “What?” He asked, his eyebrows twitching. He shook his head. “It's Hextech.”

You moved your head to look at his hand on his lap, human, and then looked at his legs, trying to formulate a plan to lift his pant leg to check the enhancement. Has it started to corrupt him?

“They found bits of a hex-core in the bomb fragment.” He sighed, placing a hand on his forehead, massaging his forehead. “They want Hextech’s control directly in the council. No more private investors or personal projects. Only the council will say what projects go forward.”

“That makes no sense.” You told him, trying to keep your voice neutral and calm. He already had plenty of anger and frustration. “Why would they take something from the hands of the competent people to give it to a bunch of merchant houses?”

“According to Salo, the Hex Project needs more than intelligent people at its helm. It needs security, and we are not providing that. Locking the hex core in a storage room is not secure…" He stopped, and the hand on his lap made a fist. "It’s been secure for the last four years, but all of a sudden it’s like we are keeping it in the atrium of the Academy.”

He was rambling, but you had zoned him out when he said Salo’s name. Was this Ambessa’s strategy? She always wanted the hextech to work in her favor. She knew Jayce and Viktor wouldn’t let the hex-core behind, so she needed to control them somehow.

“Are they letting you two go?” You asked, not looking at him, almost sure of the answer. “They tried, but we did not budge. Hextech is our dream. They can try and control the tech, but it will not leave my hands.”

You nodded and looked back at your mother over your shoulder. She had an eyebrow raised and an angry look on her face.

“It’s not Salo…” you told her, and she nodded knowingly. “I know…” she agreed. “If she gets her hands on the cores…” you continued before she interrupted. “I know. Viktor dear, where can I find Jayce?” “In the Lab. He refuses to leave. We fear they will try and take the cores.” Viktor frowned at the question but seemed too tired to ask why. “No one is taking anything from you, dear.” She turned to her partner. “Come, Wyllah, we have a lab to save.”

You watched as they both got their coats and their bags and zoomed off out the door. You heard a pained and tired sigh coming from the man in the chair. You stopped yourself from stroking his hair; instead, you got up and stretched.

“I need to go.” You heard Viktor say, but he made no mention of getting up. “No, you don’t.” “I don’t even know why I came here. I just... walked... “You walked here from the Academy?” He shook his head. “From the Manor district.” He corrected, and your brain stopped functioning for a second. “Manor District? Why did you go there?” He shrugged. “Don’t know. I just wandered into Piltover and got there and then here.”

No wonder he looked like he was about to faint. He had walked a good forty minutes to the manor and some twenty minutes to get here. Peeking at his torso, you noticed he wasn’t still wearing his back brace. You closed your eyes and looked at the sky, taking a deep breath. The pain this man must be in right now…

“Yeah... You aren’t leaving anytime soon, Vik.” You told him, and he looked up at you. “Not until you eat and rest.” “But…”

You placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at his face, a smile appearing on your lips.

“Stay, and maybe I’ll even show you some magic.” Viktor’s dull and tired eyes sparked for a second as he looked at yours. “May I stay in the armchair?” He almost pleaded, and you nodded. “Consider it yours.”

He turned to look back at the window, letting the warmth of the afternoon sun comfort him, and you made your way to the kitchen.

Your mother had made some pastry rings with little cubes of caramelized fruit in them, and while the water boiled, you heated it in the oven. Waiting for both things to finish, you leaned into the counter, your mind now connecting the dots.

Ambessa was waiting on the sidelines; she was smart enough to let the dust settle and see what would happen. There was no need for a violent takeover to get Piltover to fight Zaun and weaponize the cores; she could do it without having to push and pull puppets anywhere. It was far more efficient than trying to pit Zaun against Piltover. If the council took over, so would her puppets. Whether willingly or not.

The kettle boiled to a whistle, and the oven pinged, bringing you back to your senses, and you placed them on a small platter. You walked to the veranda, and for a moment you thought Viktor was asleep until he turned to the sound of your steps.

Viktor’s smile as he looked at you was enough to make you falter a bit on your feet. It was a look you hadn’t seen in him in a while—a tired, honest, drowsy smile.

• • • •

“Your back will get stiff and your lungs will disown you if you don’t warm up, V.” You said mischievously, embracing the slender man’s shoulders from behind, cocooning him in the blanket you had on your back.

His hunched back straightened slightly at your contact, and you heard a chuckle from him. He looked at you from the corners of his dark-rimmed eyes and gave you a tired smile. His body relaxed in your warmth, and you stayed for a while until you felt his body temperature come up.

• • • •

“You’re staring.” He mumbled, and you shook your head, chuckling. “You remind me of someone.” “You’ve said…”

You placed the tray on the small table and pushed it towards him. Sitting on the other armchair next to him, he grabbed the pastry first, giving it a little bite.

“Can I ask you something?” You leaned your elbows into your knees after a while. “Mmhmm...” he nodded, munching on the small sweet ring. “Was Ambessa in the lab this week?”

Viktor frowned and chased the food with a slow gulp of tea.

“General Medarda accompanied Councilor Medarda and Salo once, yes.” His voice dripped with venom, making his accent deeper. “Why?”

You shrugged and shook your head.

“Just curious…That good?” You mentioned the pastry with your chin, trying to change the subject quickly, and he made an affirmative sound in his throat. “You want more?” “Maybe later.” “How about some shut-eye? No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in a week.” “It’s been 8 days and 6 hours, actually.” “Don’t you dare sound proud of that.” you warned, turning your face to the sun. “I’ve gone for longer…” he said, and you heard him bite a piece of caramelized fruit. “I remember…” you blurted out, snorting. “You do?” He asked, and it dawned on you what you said. “I remember when... I was in the music academy, the days... I mean nights... endless sleepless nights... studying music...” You cleared your throat and got up from the chair. “I’m going to fluff up the pillows in the guest bedroom.”

You didn’t really fluff up anything since the guest bedroom was always prepared for… well… guests… So you just went inside the bedroom and opened the curtains to help the sun warm the room.

The distinguishable sound of Viktor’s cane came closer to the door, and you heard a low whistle, and that was enough to let you know that man was high on exhaustion and running on fumes alone.

“This bedroom is bigger than my whole apartment.” He leaned on the door and mentioned the room with his cane. “You’ve moved out of the dorm, heh?” You groaned once more; the familiarity of this whole thing was making you forget who you were in this timeline. “Eh...Jayce thought it was a good idea to put some distance between me and my work.” He limped inside the room and sat on the bed, his long legs stretched straight in front of him. He looked at you with a sleepy grin. ”I don’t think he understands the concept of taking the work home with me.”

He bounced a bit on the edge of the bed as you leaned a shoulder into the wall, raising an eyebrow at the exhausted man in front of you.

“Your mother does know how to pick cushiony things.” He mumbled after a few bounces, and you snorted at him. “What? It is true. Have you sat on the chairs in the conservatory? Cloud quality.”

You belly-laughed at him and saw his chest heaving in the same pattern. You nodded at his nonsensical, tired tirade and moved to open the bed sheets for him.

“Are those technical, scientific terms, Mr. co-creator of Hextech?” You walked back to him and grabbed his cane, leaning it against the bedside table. “Very much so... I am utterly exhausted...” he babbled, as you pointed for him to take his shoes off. “Anything connected to my spine hurts…And that is everything, in case you didn’t know. Everything connects to the spine...”

“Viktor…shush…” you eventually told him, and he nodded apologetically. "I blather when I'm tired." He shifted his weight to walk over to the side of the bed where the sheets were open, using the bed as his walking aid.

Unlike your Viktor, who got overtly quieter as his tiredness grew.

“Come on, lie down and rest.” You told him gently, grabbing his elbow to help him.

And he did, his eyelids getting heavy. He sat on his jacket and winced as it pulled on him when he moved back to the head of the bed. He took it off immediately and unbuttoned his vest.

“You promised me magic.” He said once he was lying on a throne of pillows. “I did.” You pushed the sheet onto his legs. “I learned a new rune.”

His eyes widened a bit, and you chuckled.

One of the nights in the week before, you had fallen asleep at the piano.

The idea of staying at home doing nothing had started to become boring, so you had decided to try out for the Piltover Symphonic Orchestra. And that meant you had to compose and play a sonata. It was easier said than done, and much like the boys at Hextech, you could get lost in your work. Not to the point of whatever mind place Viktor was in at the moment, but enough that you would fall asleep in the music room sometimes.

After a particularly bad dream, you had woken up in a panic in a dark new room. A rune had plucked the piano, the vibration from the sound visible against the moonlight shining from the window. Once the vibration hit the light, they formed a beautiful rune glowing white against the darkness.

“I have noted it down in your notebook, just like I did with the others you haven’t seen.”

Viktor gave you a drowsy smile and urged you on with a stare.

You took off the glove you wore like a second skin before pushing the thick curtains, making the room dark and shadowy. Making your way to the bed, you kicked your slippers off and sat on the bottom of the mattress.

With a few strokes in the air, the rune appeared in front of you and dissolved into a smoke-like texture at first and then started to dissolve into small shimmering white marbles of light. Very similar to the unlocking wisps, but these were white and floating gently.

You heard Viktor gasp and grin at him, holding up a finger, the universal sign of ‘that's cool, but check this out.’ With a flick of your wrist, the little sparkles of light rocketed toward the ceiling and just hovered there, like little stars in a sea of darkness.

“Gods.” It was all that escaped him, his face now illuminated by the shimmer of the soft white lights.

You looked from the lights to his face, and although he looked tired, the amazement he was feeling was written on his features. The tired curling of his lips and the flicker and light in his eyes. The way he gently placed his head on the pillows and watched the little marbles of smoke and light dance on the ceiling, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on a particular glow.

The stars started to fade, and in the silent room, you could only hear him breathing calmly.

“Can you do it again?” He whispered, and you smiled.

You pulled yourself further into the bed and lay on your back, perpendicular to him, your knees bent over the edge. You made the rune again, and the stars reappeared.

“Is it infinite?” He mumbled, his brain starting to shut off, his accent becoming stronger. “The times you can speak the runes?” “I don’t know.” You answered, your brain starting to feel drowsy, lulled by the slow, floating magic. “Can I ask you something?” “You already did…” You joked, and he snorted. “Yes, but… this you don’t have to answer.” “Go on.” “Have we met before?” “No.” You lied, still having the brain function to preserve your story. “It...is...weird...then.” He sighed deeply. “Every time you say my name, it’s like you’ve said it a thousand times before…”

He paused and sighed again, resting an arm on his forehead while the other rested on the bed next to him.

“And every time I hear it," he mumbled, his eyes already closed. "It’s like I’ve been hearing it all my life.”

When the only sound in the room was his light snoring and your even breathing, you shifted to lay on your side, stretching your arm and touching the tips of his fingers with yours.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth

#arcane #viktor #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #slow burn #viktor x you #viktor x y/n #arcane viktor x reader #viktor league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane x you #arcane characters #arcane reader

215 notes · View notes

leathergallery · 2 months ago

Text

Shop the stylish and durable Milan 5-piece Queen XL Bedroom Set in-store or online now

Standard Price: R59,000.00

Black Friday Sale: WAS R59,000.00 NOW R52,999.00 SAVE R6,001.00

3 - 6 Month Special Order Plan Available from R 7,571.28 per month

Note that the sale price is only valid on our Special Order Payment Plans option.

Primary Features:

· Crafted with a stunning wooden headboard and paired with two fixed pedestals, this set creates a stylish, cohesive look.

· The chic dressing table includes six drawers, a mirror and a matching leather-upholstered stool, adding a luxurious touch.

· The innovative bed base features a raised foot end with additional storage drawers, combining beauty and function.

· Made from high-quality Akume Supawood and Solid Saligna Wood, ensuring durability for years.

· Each pedestal has three smooth drawers, providing easy access to all your essentials.

· Each drawer is fitted with smooth telescopic runners for easy use.

·The headboard’s decorative panel detailing adds sophistication and charm.

· Finished in a rich Walnut hue, bringing warmth and style to your bedroom decor.

· Available in a spacious Queen XL size for ultimate comfort and restful sleep.

View our Black Friday Deals here: https://leathergallery.co.za/collections/black-friday

#LeatherGallery #5 Piece Bedroom Set #Bedroom Suite #Bedroom Furniture #Black Friday 2024 #Black Friday Deals #Furniture Finds #Sale Alert #Savings #Rustic Bedroom Interiors #Luxury Bedroom Furniture #Luxury Living #Luxury Home Furniture #Interior Design #South Africa

0 notes

virginsexgod69 · 10 months ago

Note

REQUEST ‼️‼️‼️

I’ve always wanted to read one where the reader is one of Hershel’s daughters (set in season 2). When Daryl and the group show up the reader won’t stop teasing Daryl and eventually he can’t take it anymore. Please make my dreams come true 😭😭🤘. (p.s virgin reader would be +50 points ;)

❝ V-Card ❞

pairing (S2) Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader

cw loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, lowkey inexperienced daryl, but also not really?, teasing, some pining, daryl kinda being a boob man, reader being a little pervy at times

note i am so sorry i kept you waiting 32 days for this request @mygrandmaschinacabinet, i really hope you like this and thank you for your patience and kind comment on my other post!

p.s. just bc reader is hershel's daughter does not imply anything ab her appearence

~5.k words

Living on a farm that was fairly far from society, it was a given that you wouldn't see good looking guys too often. But being a good looking girl, the guys you didn't want were always the ones after you, and you'd always have to turn them down. When she gets older, she's gonna have to fight off boys with a stick, was something your grandma would often tease your father, Hershel, about. You laughed it off, not paying any mind to it, but boy did she end up being right. You spent a good portion of your high school years rejecting your suitors, none of which were good enough for you, and none of which you really wanted. But when you finally laid eyes on the most beautiful man you've ever seen, he happened to be one who seemed to pay you no attention.

Odd circumstances brought the beautiful man, whom you quickly learned was named Daryl Dixon, to your farm. Otis shot a kid, Hershel took him in to care for, and his dad's group eventually made a home on your father's land. You couldn’t help but ogle at him from your bedroom window whenever you got the chance. The way his biceps flexed whenever he worked with his arms had your virgin pussy aching to be filled by him. He was a man who you’d let do things to you that you’d let no other man before even think he had a chance of doing.

“Not this again,” Maggie complained upon entering your room. You were perched at your window -like you have been since the group first arrived- watching Daryl skin some squirrels. No one could look as good as he did while doing such a grisly task.

“Can you blame me? Jus’ look at him,” you replied dreamily.

“No thanks.”

“Whatever. You have your eye candy, I have mine.”

“Eye candy? What’re you talkin’ about?” She asked defensively.

“Glenn. I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s a piece of meat,” you teased.

“Whatever! Do you need anythin’? I’m goin’ out on a run.”

“With Glenn?”

She let out an annoyed huff and exited the room, not awaiting your response. But you didn’t need anything anyway. You went back to watching Daryl. The sweltering Georgia heat caused sweat to drench his sleeveless shirt and drip from his short, dark hair. He looked like he walked out of one of your many wet dreams. Just then, an idea popped into your head. You hurried down to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, cooling it with the scoops of ice you added. Surely this kind deed would put you on his radar.

“Hey, Daryl,” you cheerily greeted as you approached the rugged man. He sat on a stump, now gutting the squirrels he already skinned. He grunted in response, not looking up from his work. Your smile dropped, not that it mattered, considering he wasn’t even looking at you.

“Brought you some water. It’s pretty hot out here and I wouldn’t want ya gettin’ dehydrated,” you said as you held out the cold glass, now dripping with condensation. “Thanks.” He grabbed the glass, his fingers slightly brushing yours, sending a tingling through your spine. He threw his head back, downing the water. A small stream of water dripped down his chin, then his neck, sliding down his shirt no longer in your vision. You squeezed your thighs together. Every little thing he did drove you crazy. You felt like a victorian man who’d just seen a peek of a woman’s ankle whenever you were around Daryl.

“You uh… Ya need somethin’?” He asked when he noticed you haven’t left yet. You froze. You didn’t need anything, but you didn’t want to leave either.

“Jus’ came to check on ya, I guess,” you muttered.

“ ‘M fine?” He tossed the squirrel’s guts into a bucket.

“Well, alright. My work here is done!” You cringed as the words left your mouth. You grabbed the emptied glass and walked back into the house, chastising yourself the entire way. You wanted nothing more than to have him look at you the way other guys do, but he barely give you the time of day.

The glimmer of sunbeams on your face woke you up the next morning. You glanced at the analog clock on your nightstand that read 11:36. You hopped out of bed and eagerly hurried to your window, hoping Daryl would be back from hunting or looking for that little girl or whatever else it was he did when he wasn’t in his usual spot. He was sat on that stump again, but this time he was cleaning his crossbow with that red rag he kept on him. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to do something. He couldn’t keep getting away with being so hot and so uninterested in you.

You readied yourself in the bathroom, making sure every hair was in place and every tooth was brushed. You debated putting on makeup. You had some leftover from before, but never had a reason to use it, not until now. You layered on some mascara until your lashes looked twice as long and twice as full and coated your lips with some tinted gloss. You stared into your closet debating on what you thought Daryl’d like better. Your tightest, shortest shorts and a nearly see-through tank top.

“What’re doin’ all dolled up like that?” Your younger sister, Beth asked upon entering the kitchen.

“Makin’ lunch for D-,” you stopped yourself, not wanting another sister catching onto your thing for Daryl, “for the group out there.”

“Daddy doesn’t want us wastin’ all our stuff on them,” she protested. You rolled your eyes at her. She could be such a goody-two-shoes sometimes. “What he don’ know won’ hurt him.” You cut a piece of the sandwich you made and handed it to Beth.

“Eat this and keep quiet.”

You assembled the sandwich and a glass of lemonade on a tray and carried it over to his lone camp. He didn’t look at you until you were standing before him holding the tray of food. His eyes slowly made their way up to yours, lingering on your bare legs and exposed cleavage on their way up. You couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged the corners of your mouth at this small victory. He quickly averted his gaze and set his crossbow down.

“Wha’s all this?” He asked, nodding his head toward the tray in your arms.

“Made ya lunch. Figured you’d be hungry after all that huntin’ and searchin’ you been doin’,” you answered as you set down the tray.

“Uh, thanks?” He seemed confused, but grateful nonetheless. “Of course,” you replied with a bright smile before sauntering off, swaying your hips more than usual. Unbeknownst to you, he watched you until the door closed behind you.

In the days that passed, you upped the ante on your teasing. Daryl noticed. At noon almost everyday, you’d bring him lunch in risqué little outfits. Not quite skimpy, but just enough to tease him. And tease him they did. He already was too nervous to look at you, afraid he might scare you off with his gruff nature and lack of experience with women. He’d choose, instead, to catch glimpses of you when you weren’t watching. Like when you’d leave after bringing him something, or when you’d be around doing farm-work or interacting with the other members of his group. But when you started wearing those revealing outfits, it became harder for him to keep from looking at you. But when he made eye contact with you, he became so nervous and shy that he had to look away. You were the sun. He could feel your warmth, even when he couldn’t see you. You were so bright and beautiful that he felt pulled to look at you, but whenever he did, it couldn’t be for long because he’d forcibly look away, your bright smile burning his sensitive retinas.

Speaking of the sun, there you were. “Daryl!” You called as you ran to him. The actual sun glowed behind you, making you look even more like an angel. He was atop one of your horses ready to leave the farm to look for Sophia. He was shocked to see you since you usually weren’t up until noon. He’d know since that’s around the time he sees you watching him through your window.

“Yeah?” He grunted.

“Ya goin’ out to look for that little girl?” Once you were out of the sunlight, he could actually get a good look at you. Something in him stirred when he saw you in the little dress you had on. It was a cream color with ruffles at the bottom and it gave him a good view of your breasts from his position on the horse. He quickly tore his eyes away and looked at the view ahead of him, which was nowhere near as beautiful as you.

“I figure you’ll be gone for a bit, so I brought you a little bite to eat,” you said holding up a few muffins you made the other night wrapped in cheesecloth.

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. Despite how frequent it was, he was always taken aback by the kindness you show him. He’s never been treated the way you treat him before and it caught him off guard.

“Be back by dinner, okay?” It wasn’t a command, more of a hopeful question, but made his heart flutter.

“I’ll try.” He didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep. You stood there fiddling with your dress about to say something but deciding against it each time.

“Wha’ is it?”

“B-be safe out there!” You blurted before scampering off. He found it odd how you could be so bold with your teasing, yet shy when it came to actually talking to him.

Your words echoed in his head as he searched for any sign of Carol’s lost daughter. Your request of be back by dinner, okay? motivated him to get back to the farm, despite his injuries from the horse tossing him down a cliff making it difficult for him to move. But what really stuck with him was your horrified scream when you saw Andrea shoot him. That scream haunted his dreams while he was unconscious. The terror of it being the last thing he’d hear from you was his real nightmare. So when he heard your soft “Hey,” he felt relief wash over him, despite the pain everywhere else. He blinked his dry eyes open only for the first thing for him to see being your tits. You had on a loose t-shirt with no bra underneath. He didn’t know if this was a part of your teasing or a pure mistake, but either way, his cock stirred at the sight. You leaned down further to look into his eyes.

“How ya feelin’?” You ask, placing the back of your hand to his forehead. He tried to croak out a response, but his throat was too dry. You quickly grabbed the glass of water at his bedside and helped him drink it.

“Better?”

“ ‘M fine,” he said. You gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him, but were humoring him anyway. “You were injured pretty badly, Daryl,” you said as you gently stroked his hair. He caught himself before he could fully melt into your touch. In fact, he moved away from it.

“I know, ‘m fine,” he snapped before trying to roll over, away from you. He didn’t like you seeing him like this. So weak and frail, having to depend on those around him. He didn’t see the hurt expression that took over your pretty face. But, to his luck, you didn’t let him push you away. Instead, you toed off your shoes and got into the bed beside him, facing him. He hoped to the high heavens that you couldn’t see the redness that blossomed on his face when you flashed your bright smile at him.

“I’ll keep ya company,” you promised.

“Don’ need no company, said ‘m fine.” He didn’t know why he was so adamant about pushing you away. The minute he realized you were in here, he brightened up. He didn’t want his sunshine to leave, but he couldn’t help the storm that was brewing inside him.

“Well, if you really want me to leave, I’ll go.” You were almost out of the bed before his clammy hand grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, you can stay,” he said, prompting the return of that bright smile.

When you woke up, the sun was setting and Daryl’s arm was around your waist, holding you close. Your heart swelled, this was all you ever wanted, to be in Daryl’s arms. Okay, well you wanted more than just his arm around you, but small victories! You gently moved his arm off you so you could get up and get some dinner from him and yourself.

“What were you doin’ in there?” Your father asked as soon as you stepped out of the room. He stood outside, about to come in, holding a tray of food for the bowman.

“Nothin’, Daddy, I was jus’ checkin up on our patient!” It was the truth, but it felt like a lie.

“Since earlier this afternoon?” He pressed.

“Lost track of time,” you explained.

“Now, honey, I know you’re just lookin’ out for him, but-“

“I know, I know, you don’t really trust them, but I’m just lovin’ thy neighbor, so to speak.” You bargained.

That response seemed to satisfy him for now. He handed you the tray of food to give you Daryl.

“Daryl, dinner,” you called softly upon reentering the room. He groaned, but woke up anyway. He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. You set the tray down and quickly ran to his side to help him out. You adjusted his pillows and helped him to a sitting position.

“Wha’s fer dinner?” He asked, glancing at the bowl of soup on the tray beside him on the bed. You hummed in thought before dipping your finger into the bowl and sucking it clean, making sure your lips were pouty as you did so, hoping to tease Daryl.

“Tomato.” He hummed noncommittally before reaching for the spoon. You swatted his hand away. “Nuh uh, you’re still healing, let me feed you.”

“I can feed myself,” he protested. You furrowed your brows and pouted at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth slightly, waiting for a bite. You smiled, scooping up some soup and spooning it into his mouth, making sure to lean forward as to give him a front row seat to the view down your shirt. You saw him avoid looking the first few times, but soon he was unable to resist taking a peek, and soon his peeking became staring (however, he pretended not to be whenever you looked back up at him).

“Enjoy the soup?” You asked once the bowl was mostly empty.

“S’alright,” he said as he nibbled on a cracker. You grabbed the bowl and drank the rest of the soup directly from it.

“Goddammit!” You cursed when a glob of soup fell onto your white t-shirt. But maybe it was a blessing in disguise, a chance to drive Daryl crazy. You grabbed a random t-shirt from one of the drawers and set it down before taking off the one you had, tossing it aside. You put the new one on as if you didn't just give him a strip show. His face was beet red and he hurried to adjust the blankets on his lap.

"Daryl, you okay? You look a little hot?"

"S'just w-warm in here."

"Let me jus' check your temperature." Instead of pressing the back of your hand to his forehead like before, you placed a gentle kiss to it.

"Feels a little warm." You stayed close to his face. If he moved, even a centimeter, his lips would touch yours, which is what you were hoping for. You glanced down at his lips, then up at his blue eyes, waiting for him to lean in. Despite all this teasing, you kinda wished he'd make a move, too. When he didn't, you pulled away, kissing him on the cheek instead.

"Get well soon, okay?" you said before taking the tray and leaving.

Daryl had been mentally punching himself since that night. He was an idiot for not kissing you when he had the chance. You were right there and so obviously waiting for him to do something, anything. But he couldn't. It'd been so long since he'd done anything with a woman, and even then, he didn't think he was any good. He was almost embarrassed about how inexperienced he was at his age. And someone as beautiful as you obviously would have some experience, so why waste time on him. He didn't want to be the cloud that dulled your shine.

He was now well enough to be released from Hershel’s care, but not well enough to resume about his usual ways. He’d normally disobey orders to take it easy, but when you made him promise to rest, he couldn’t break it. Subconsciously, he glanced over to your window. It wasn’t something he did often, considering you were usually the one watching him, but you were weighing heavily on his mind. He saw you up in your room, assuming you’d just woken up since it was almost noon. You were at your window, rummaging through your dresser -he knew where it was when he caught a glimpse of your room when he was inside the house. You held up a few shirts, probably deciding on which to wear, before pulling your pajama shirt off over your head. This was now the second, no, third time he’s gotten a perfect view of your tits. God they would feel so good in his hands, better yet, they’d look so good bouncing in unison with his thrusts as he fucked you into your mattress. Your teasing and mischievous ways only fueled his fantasies, causing his pants to tighten uncomfortably. The little wave you gave him from your window pulled him out of his own head. You, still topless, blew him a kiss before stepping out of frame.

His heart rate increased expeditiously as he nearly came in his pants. He couldn’t handle your teasing anymore, it was driving him crazy. He wanted you, not just the fantasies in his head and the company of his hand. He wanted to feel your walls squeeze his cock, hear your little moans as he pleasured you until your mind went numb, become one with you as you came in unison. He hurried into his tent and zipped it all the way up before collapsing onto his sleeping bag and hurrying to undo his pants. He liberated his aching cock from its confines and spat on his hand. He rubbed himself up and down, from base to tip, imagining it was your pretty mouth swallowing him whole. He ignored the sound of distant footsteps approaching his tent and instead chased his climax, which was coming embarrassingly fast.

“Daryl?” Your distant voice called, but all he heard in his mind was you moaning his name as your nails scratched down his back.

“You in here?” You asked. Daryl came in his hand, taking extra care to stifle the moan that threatened to spill from his mouth. Reality set in when he saw your shadow standing outside his tent. He quickly wiped his hand off on the closest piece of fabric and shoved himself back in his pants.

“Need somethin’? He asked. He willed you not to notice his flushed, sweaty face.

“Watcha doin’ in there?” You asked, trying to peek into his tent. He moved to block your vision. He didn’t need you finding any trace of his earlier activity. Although, the little dress you had on had him ready to continue said activities.

“Nothin’.”

“Anyway, I came to check on you, make sure you’re takin’ it easy.”

“I am, was jus’ takin’ a nap,” he lied.

“Then why are you so red? And sweaty? Are you comin’ down with somethin’?!” You were starting to sound worried, making Daryl feel guilty. You reached up to feel his forehead and check for a fever, but he stepped back, avoiding your touch. If he felt your skin on his, in any capacity, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back anymore.

“Daryl, don’t be so stubborn!” You stepped closer only for him to step back again.

“Ain’ got no fever, girl! S’just hot out here!” He insisted.

“Don’ know that for sure. If it is one, it could mean one of your wounds is infected.”

“S’not a fever, ‘m sweaty from workin’ out.” You looked at him with an eyebrow skeptically raised and a hand on your hip. So much for takin’ a nap, you thought. Your eyes traveled down his body before meeting his again, this time with look more mischievous than usual in your eyes.

“Your fly’s down.” He quickly zipped it up, cursing himself for the dumb mistake.

“Anythin’ to do with your ‘work out’?”

“Dunno what yer gettin’ at.” His heart was beating faster in his chest, this time because of anxiety. You were onto him and he was about to get caught, humiliated under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Flushed, sweaty face.” You took a step closer and he took one back. “Dilated pupils.” Another step forward and another one back. “Unzipped fly.” He stepped back, not looking where he was going and stumbled onto the grassy ground. You sat down next to him. “Took forever to open your tent.” Your face split into a grin like the Cheshire Cat. “I’d say you were in there masturbatin’.” He stumbled over his words, looking for what to say in denial of your observation accusation. You pressed your pointer finger to his lips.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You leaned over him and slid your hand down his chest. “I touch myself, too.” His sparkling blue eyes went wide. “Usually thinkin’ ‘bout you when I do it.” You could feel his breathing change as you slid your hand further down his toned stomach. “Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?” His face was beet read and breathing shallow. You had him and he was more than ready, willing, and able to give in. He nodded his head, confirming your suspicions.

“Well, next time I’m on your mind,” you leaned down, lips ghosting his parted ones, “don’t just settle for your hand.” His lips finally met yours in a heated kiss. The built up tension from his days of pining and yours of teasing finally being released in that kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss, slipping your tongue inside and drinking in all his pleasured groans.

“Wanna go back to my room?” You asked after pulling away.

“Nah, too far. Let’s go inside my tent.” You happily agreed and hurried inside, zipping it up behind Daryl. His mouth was back on yours in an instant, passionately exploring it with his tongue. He kissed his way down to your neck, roughly sucking marks.

“Oh, Daryl!” You shouted when he reached a certain spot on your neck, just beneath your ear. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Nervously, Daryl’s hand experimented with touching your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips. They were comfortable there and not daring enough to try anything else. He wanted to impress you, but at the same time he didn’t want you to notice that he had no clue what he was doing or what to do next, using the pirated porn and one night stands of his past as reference. Your hands grabbed his and placed them on your tits.

“Touch me, Daryl!” You whined. His hands groped and kneaded at the soft mounds of flesh hidden behind the thin fabric of your dress. He pulled down the front of your dress, freeing your tits then recapturing one by putting it in his mouth. His large hand toyed with the right while his mouth suckled the other. Your little wanton whimpers egged him on, giving him the confidence to try more. Your squirmed beneath him, squeezing your thighs together. His cock was also painfully hard, once again, and yearning to feel your warm walls around him. He pulled away and undid his pants before pulling out his cock, stroking it a few times. He looked up at you, but you looked less excited. Your eyes wouldn’t meet his and your arms were crossed over your chest, hiding yourself from him.

“Wha’s the matter, Sunshine?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue naturally. He was more than excited to sleep with you, but his worry regarding your sudden change outweighed that.

“N-nothin’. Jus’ put it in,” you said hoarsely.

“Nah, we ain’ doin’ nothin’ unless ya tell me wha’s wrong.” It sounded harsh, but it came from a place of genuine concern.

You sat up, readjusting your dress as you did so. “I-it’s jus’,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your dress, something Daryl noticed you did a lot around him. “C-can we go slow? I haven’t done any of this stuff before,” you admitted.

“You a virgin?” He asked, astonished. You glumly nodded your head as if you were accepting defeat. In a twisted way, that relieved him a bit. Maybe since you’ve never had sex, you wouldn’t notice his own lack of experience. He put himself in his boxers before patting the spot in front of him. You crawled over to him and sat between his legs, your back against his chest. His lips found that spot on your neck again and began sucking there as his hand slid underneath your panties. He rubbed your clit in tight circles, causing your thighs to clamp shut over his hand.

“Jus’ relax,” he coaxed. You relaxed the best you could, but the pleasure kept you from staying still.

“F-faster,” you whimpered. He obeyed your command, rubbing you at a quicker pace. Your head fell back against his shoulder and you moaned in his ear. His other hand slipped beneath your panties and gathered your arousal on his finger, before he slowly slid it inside you, giving you time to adjust. He pumped it in and out of you as he continued to rub your clit. Your back arched off him as you moaned his name. He easily slipped in a second finger with how wet you were. Your velvety walls were so soft around his thick digits. He couldn’t wait to feel them with his cock. He moved his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting you in a spot that had you babbling nonsense. You squeezed his fingers with your soaking cunt as your first orgasm overtook your body.

“Daryl, I’m ready. Need ta feel ya inside me,” you slurred. He helped you lay down on your back and slid your panties off before pulling his painfully hard cock out again. Your legs rested over his thighs as he coated his member in your juices before lining it up with your entrance. He slid in as slowly as he could, making sure this would be as painless as it could be for you. You were so soft, slippery, and smooth around him, the best pussy he’s ever had. Once he was all the way in, he stopped to give you time to adjust. He leaned down and connected your lips in another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled held him close.

“You can move now.” His hands gripped your hips as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you, not wanting to give you too much too soon. His pleasured grunts mingled with your moans as he slid in and out of you.

“More, need more!” You whined. He adjusted your position, placing your legs over his broad shoulders. The new position allowed him to fill you even better. As he pounded in and out of you, the erotic sounds of damp skin slapping damp skin filled the tent, harmonizing with his and your sounds of pleasure. He lifted your dress over your head, getting rid of the barrier between you and him, and tossed it aside. His own fantasies came true as he watched your tits bounce in unison with his thrusts. He took them in his hands again, rolling your nipples between his finger and thumb, bringing you closer to your climax.

“Daryl I think I’ma-” Your sentence trailed off into a moan as you came around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm as his own approached. He pulled out of you just as he was about to finish and came all over your tits and stomach, like a firehose. You let out a satisfied hum, barely able to keep your eyes open. He grabbed one of his discarded shirts and cleaned you off before laying beside you in the sleeping bag. You rolled over to face him and hugged him close in your arms.

“You were the best first I coulda asked for,” you confessed. Your words soothed his worries that he didn’t perform well enough while also making his heart flutter.

“Guess all yer teasin’ paid off.” You giggled against his chest.

He pulled you closer to him and pulled you in for another kiss, a sweeter, gentler one this time. You dozed off in his comforting arms, wishing you’d never have to leave.

i proofread it, yaaay! anyway, thanks for reading! <3

i wrote this instead of doing my homework, mwahahahah >=]

join the taglist?

masterlist

♱ Taglist ♱

@fuckedbydaryl @banquetwriter @eternalrose81

890 notes · View notes

javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.”

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.”

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice, he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments.

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else.

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve.

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him.

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using.

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Well obviously something’s wrong.”

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?”

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?”

“I’m not upset!”

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-”

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him.

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon.

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be.

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?”

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins.

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time.

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you.

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-”

“I didn’t get in.”

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke.

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock.

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?”

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!”

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has.

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand.

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation.

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say.

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?”

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds.

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.”

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive.

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest.

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to.

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear.

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you.

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you.

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed.

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?”

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving.

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.”

“Where?”

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace.

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.”

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for.

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified.

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.”

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home.

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers.

“You promise you’ll come home, right?”

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too.

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness.

“Anything.”

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.”

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did.

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.”

Frankie, Present

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point.

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings.

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you.

Well, he can’t think about you as much.

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him.

He let you take the first shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run.

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you.

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.”

“You barely run the mile in gym class.”

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.”

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you.

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to.

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans.

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day.

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement.

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.”

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings.

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.”

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.”

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.”

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).”

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past.

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible.

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him.

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer.

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school.

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too.

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school.

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble.

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed.

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to.

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him.

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage.

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment.

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him.

August 18th, 2006

Frankie,

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage.

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL.

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person!

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha).

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo.

From,

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line.

October 13th, 2009

Frankie,

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe.

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet.

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do.

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie.

Kenzie

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong.

February 4th, 2011

Hey,

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways.

I guess I’ll see you when I see you.

MacKenzie

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business.

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull.

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done?

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@kungfucapslock @vannabanana1995 @beezusvreeland

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

218 notes · View notes

yourcutelittlegayfriend · 24 days ago

Text

✧✦✧ Chapter 3 ✧✦✧

Hello Father, Die

Warning this part contains: Cursing, Hallucinations (Schizophrenia maybe), mentions and descriptions of a noose, Murderous and Violent thoughts, Trauma Triggers (MC's), Dark Themes(not the settings btw) and Typos&Badwriting Combo.

Note: a bit long fic that was supposed to be short, this is more of the relationship between Bruce and MC as well as a special pov from someone after this it'll be short shots with the rest of the family unless-

MASTERLIST Pages ↻ 2 , 4....➣

Now Playing

↻◁ ||▷↺Sucker - Markus King (Arcane) ılıılıılılılıılıılı

✧✦✧✦✧

It's suffocating.......

Everything is choking me.....

Death clings to me like my own skin as I walk along the bloody trench I dig by myself.

Every hand from my past and other life reaches out and tugs onto my skin and soul begging for another chance.

but not this time.

My light at the end of this long unwinding tunnel is just beyond reach.

I won't stop until I get what I want, I won't until I get what I deserve.

As the stormy night passes by Gotham, I wake up to my new bed that Alfred prepared me last night.

I begged Alfred to let me stay near him so he gave in and fixed up a guest room near his own quarters, a good decision on my part that's for sure.

A room far away from my old bedroom and a safer one closer to Alfred, a slight change that I hope won't fuck up the reset.

Looking around I observe the barren room and walls, just a few pieces of furniture, a bed, a shelf, and a door to a medium size toilet and bathroom.

'Better get fixed up, We're hungry' they poke my back as I see a towel placed conveniently by the knob of the open bathroom door.

Nodding my head as I hummed in agreement before entering and closing the door.

✦✧✦

Heading out, I quickly trace back my way into the kitchen and see Alfred whipping up something on the marbled counter with a few cups and bowls scattered around yet in an organized and clean manner.

Walking up I stare at the ingredients on what I could guess would be the breakfast for the other one inhabiting this 'house'.

I see them peek out their head from the corner of the counter and poke the bowls pretending to be like a cat while words scribble at the ingredients like 'yummy' or 'bleugh-'

I stood at the ledge since I was back to being my kid size, only my eyes reaching the top of the surface and silently watching Alfred prepare, it didn't take him less than a minute to notice me but I could see him slightly tensing when he look into the corner of his eyes.

'Never the jumpiest in the family before' they say as tilt their head behind Alfred's shoulder as the word 'Jumpy' flashes at the back of the butler's form.

"Good morning, Mr. Alfred". I quietly said to him as I shifted my attention to the whirling electric mixers that were mixing the pancake batter.

"Good morning as well Young Master". He returned my greetings before turning the mixer and properly faced me.

"May I ask hold long have you been waiting there?". He wonders as he picks up the metal bowl and turns to fire up the stove.

"More than 5 minutes, I'm used to waking up early Mr. Alfred". I tell him as I observe him, hearing him hum before I continue to watch him and get lost in my daydream.

'Since I missed meeting Bruce I'd wonder when he'll pop up now' I wondered before a loud scratching record screech on my ear made me wince and the hairs on my neck stood up as I heard them whisper frantically.

'He's here! run run run run run runrunrunrunRUNRUNRUN GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY-!' They scream and yell as their voice pounded on the walls and the shadows swirl around the room I see their polished leather shoes rounding the entryway in the corner of my eye then everything vanishes by the sound of his voice.

"Alfred, Is -oh". I hear him behind me as I watch Alfred side-eye my form before moving his sight to the figure behind me who by the sound of his reaction probably notices me quickly.

"Good morning Master Bruce, Breakfast shall be done in 10 minutes but for now-". He greets him slowly moving towards me and lays a hand on my shoulder.

"I believe you have someone who needs your attention this morning". Alfred finishes -his words making us scoff in my head- as he gently turns me to look at 'him'.

'Traitor' they snarl at Aflred before hiding behind me with a swish 'His Attention? let's see how long that fucking last' they grumble as they wrap their arms around my waist.

Finally looking at him I fought within myself not to jump on his face and slap the daylights out of him-

Many things are scribbled on his face, his whole features are crudely crossed out, large and pointy horns stood above his head longer than the ones on his cowl, a large drawing of a sick grin over his mouth and crosses on his eyes as many things, horrible things floated around him like a halo yet a big fucking 'SUCKER' was written behind his head as I see 'them' perched on his shoulders tying what looks to be a large noose around his neck.

'Hello Father' they giggled before their voice venomously spit out 'Die' as they pulled the rope up and-'

Quickly blinking it away I stare back at him again not saying a thing with a light tired frown on my face, studying his face one more time as I move my eyes to his also tired ones that have a little bit of eyebags under, his wrinkled skin on his forehead and corner of the eye despite being on his younger adult version.

'Guess trauma is a motherfucker'

I look away from him and greet him quietly not wanting to look at him no more longer than a minute.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne" I whispered and stared at Alfred's pants and the marble flooring respectively.

I hear him sigh and feel him lower down to my height as I hear him reply back a greeting.

"Hello and.......who might you be?". He asks as I peek back and see him on one of his knees as he tilts his head.

"-......- " I only stare at him before whispering my name and turn away again but move as far as I can and stand by the other side of the island and hide behind.

I can hear the two adults talk behind me but I ignore them anyway and close my eyes.

'Bruce Wayne, my biological father, my real father, he........I know in myself that he was never a 'bad' father, I knew because he cares about the rest of his ward or adopted children but in all of my life has he never gone through most of those with me'

My hands tremble as I feel them wrap theirs around mine as they whisper to me 'He's a poor sucker, let him go'.

'He wasn't abusive or anything but he never was there for me, it's either he's never enough or I was never enough, All I asked of him was to love me, I never wanted to be a robin or batgirl, I never wanted to be the best, I never wanted to be anything more but his child'

'It's fine, he can kill us again if he wants to' They said as their hands cupped my face and tilted it up I saw their face clearly and their pearly white shark smile widened on their lips.

Because We're already dead inside

✧✦✧✦✧

Hope this ain't that dark

#No More Chances #yandere batfam #x reader #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere #yandere family x reader #yandere x neglected reader #x neglected reader #yandere batman x reader #yandere batboys #yandere batman #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne #yandere jason todd #yandere alfred pennyworth

344 notes · View notes