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#I am so tired and pissed off and exhausted and this is NOT helping
northwest-cryptid · 18 days
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I literally feel like I'm dying and I need to see a doctor, but I can't worry about that right now because
My bank account is literally in the negatives because I'm too disabled to work and can't make money but I can't worry about that right now because
I'm months overdue on getting my car new tags, but it won't even start if I could drive it so I need to jump the battery and get gas which I don't have money for, but I can't worry about that right now because
People are still expecting me to be social across numerous friend groups and it's pulling me in so many directions that I'm stretched so thin I'm running on no social battery for the last month, but I can't worry about that right now because
I still need to actually clean the house, do the dishes, clean the cat litter boxes, vacuum, and do my laundry... but I can't worry about that right now because
I still need to actually set up my new desk so I can stream since I haven't been able to do that for weeks and streaming is unfortunately my only source of income for how little I make every month, but I can't worry about that right now because
My partner is going through a really hard time right now and I need to be there for her and do what I can to make sure she's okay.
#People like me don't make it man. We just don't.#I'm hyper dependent on others to the point where I'd be homeless without my partner#I'm stressed day in and day out I get messages from people who want me to play games or hang out or just chat and I can't even#find the time to respond because I have 12 other things I need to be doing and those 12 other things aren't getting done because#every single thing I need to do is preventing me from doing something else and at the end of it all my health is getting worse and worse#and as it gets worse it costs more to fix and I can't get on disability without paying for a lawyer with money I literally do not have#and I'm losing it I'm literally going insane I'm pissed off because I see people blame the country I live in or the circumstances I'm in#and they act like they can't do anything and it'd be wrong of me to ask them for help#and I know when I die (and at this point it won't be long) they're going to act like this is the fault of america or some shit#they're not going to think about how they could have helped#and it sucks because some of my friends DO try to help they really do and I love them for it but it's so hard for me to see people#who don't make much money and who are also in tough situations throwing what they can at me to help me when I know people who have so much#they spend it frivolously on luxuries and I want to strangle them but then I'm not owed anything so it's not my place to tell them how#to spend their money or live their life.#and I'm tired man I'm so fucking tired I can't even stay awake for a few hours before I am too exhausted to sit upright anymore#I pass out and find myself without energy before I've even done anything and I'm only 29.
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thethingything · 8 months
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deleted a bunch of the posts from yesterday because the paranoia finally caught up with me 🙃 but anyway we can't taste properly, we're constantly shaky and wheezy and dizzy, and the cough we've got has gotten significantly worse, and I called our GP to ask about paxlovid or similar treatment and got dismissed before I could even speak to a doctor and I really, really just want to go scream at someone but that would be a shitty thing to do.
I fucking hate that people keep going out while ill and not taking even basic precautions to avoid infecting others. I hate that we're basically at the mercy of everyone else because no matter how hard we try people still infect us and doctors just end up dismissing us. this is... what, like the 6th time we've had covid and we don't even fucking go outside.
I just want a break. I just want to be able to get on with life and get my shit together without being constantly screwed over by other people's reckless decisions and a frankly ridiculous amount of bad luck
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xreapurr · 1 year
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. (Ignore tags, it’s vent.)
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marcepanowapani · 1 year
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rosenclaws · 26 days
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unworthy || worst!Logan x reader
summary: Even though he's in a new universe his past continues to haunt him in the form of you. You're nothing but nice but Logan can't take it, not after you died by his hands in his own universe.
warnings: reader has she/her pronouns, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashbacks of blood and death. Logan gets brainwashed/manipulated in his past, emotionally unavailable Logan.
a/n: I saw that one tiktok prompt and decided to write this! I really like angst and low key might write a smutty part 2 but we will see! I hope you like it thank you!!!
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It's another sleepless night for Logan. He's been having a lot of those lately. Wade's couch isn't exactly comfortable either. Everyone here treats him like a hero. Praising him for saving their universe. He scoffs at the idea. He wears the damn costume but he doesn't feel like a hero. Not after what he did.
Logan stands up from the couch, throwing off the blanket and deciding he needs some air. He grabs his jacket and leaves the apartment. The door closes loudly behind him but he can't seem to care. He fidgets with a cigar as he waits for the elevator to bring him to the ground floor.
When the cool outside air hits his face he relaxes. With a finally lit cigar, he walks around aimlessly. The sounds of his past haunt him with every passing second. Sure he may have saved this world but he is far from the hero they think he is.
"Logan? What are you doing?" He closes his eyes as he hears your voice from behind.
He glances over his shoulder to see you wrapped up in a blanket, a tired look on your face. It's early, the sun isn't even up yet and you're clearly exhausted. Yet here you are, out in the cold for him. He grunts in response, turning back around. He hears you sigh and it makes his stomach turn. He waits for you to turn around and go back inside but you don't. To his frustration you stay, you can't seem to take the damn hint.
You never have, he's tried to stay away from you. Ignore you. But you're so persistent. Stubborn. It doesn't matter how little he speaks to you or even looks at you, you don't give up. How he wishes you would. How he wishes you could understand that he needs you to stay far away from him. That just looking at you hurts. Hearing your voice is even worse. And being next to you is a knife through his heart.
It's not fair that you're here, haunting him in this universe as you did in his own. Though he thinks it might just be his punishment for everything he's done. How cruel.
"Go back to bed." He grumbles, his voice is slightly muffled by the cigar in his mouth.
"No." You say simply. Staying right next to him, looking up at the sky as the sun starts to peek out. He stares at you in disbelief. Wordlessly he stomps out his cigar and turns to leave.
"Logan, wait!" You call after him and he clenches his jaw. Why do you have to follow him? Why are you chasing him? His hurt builds until all he can feel is white hot rage.
"For fucks sake! Can't you just fuck off?" His growls. "I am sick and tired of seeing you everywhere I fucking go! So please, just take the fucking hint and leave. Me. Alone." Venom dripping with every word. He watches you shrink under his angry gaze.
Words dying on your lips as you tighten the blanket around yourself. His chest heaves as his anger starts to dissipate. He watches your eyes grow glassy and your lip quiver ever so slightly.
"I..I'm sorry." You mumble out an apology before running past him. Guilt creeps up inside of him but he doesn't let it show. It's better this way.  That's what he repeats over and over. Trying to convince himself it's true.
-
You don't understand what you've done to piss off Logan this much. To make him hate you the way he does. All you wanted was to befriend him, to help him. That's what you did with your Logan. His first friend in the X mansion all those years ago. Sure your Logan was just as untrusting and gruff at first but he learned to accept his family. He changed. Maybe it's your fault for thinking it would be the same. He's not your Logan. You have to remind yourself of that.
He looks just like him though. Talks like him, even smells like him. Your Logan yelled and had his moments but he always came back, pulling you tight and apologizing. But the anger in his eyes is something you'll never forget. He's not your Logan and he never will be. After that night you make a point to stay out of his way. Refusing Wade's dinner invitations and waiting until odd hours to leave your apartment, not wanting to even risk seeing him out in the hallways.
Eventually you ran out of excuses that Wade would accept and you were dragged back to his apartment for Mary Puppins' birthday party. At least the apartment was busy. You awkwardly stand in the corner of the room as they sing Happy Birthday. Logan and Wade are surrounded by everyone with Mary Puppins in Wade's arms. A little birthday hat on her head and somehow Wade got on on Logan's head.
As Wade gives a long, heartfelt speech about Mary and you grimace as she licks his face. Logan lets out a noise of disgust as stares at the two of them. You let out a little laugh, thinking you were being quiet enough but Logan's eyes snap to you. Nerves creeps over you as he refuses to look away. Without another word you set you cup down and leave.
Logan wanted space, so that's what you're giving him.
-
Logan watches you leave, a pang in his chest as he watches the joy fade from your face.
"God it's like watching a wet cat stare into the window of a loving home." Wade shakes his head disappointingly.
"Shut up." Logan growls.
"Hey don't get mad at me. I'm not the one who lashed out due to my inability to process my emotions." Logan raises his fist and unsheathes his claws.
Deep down he knows Wade is right, but he'll never admit it. Instead he puts his claws away and rips off the party hat. He weaves through the party guests to get to the door.
"Go get her Crocodile Dundee!" Wade shouts but Logan ignores him.
He knocks on your door but you don't answer. His heart begins to sink as he realizes that maybe he's pushed you too far. All he has to blame is himself. He's hurt you yet again. A part of him tells him to turn and leave. Just give up and accept his fate. But He waits and waits.
There's a small part of him keeping him rooted to the spot outside of your door, telling him that this time he can make it right. People trickle out of his apartment but he pays them no attention. Hours pass and still no sign of you. Still he remains determined. He closes his eyes and leans back. Ready to wait as long as it takes.
-
The morning after Wade's party sucks. You feel like shit, physically and mentally. You barely got enough sleep last night with your mind running all night. Sighing you decide the only thing that can salvage your morning is a donut. Though when you go to open your door, you're met with a very heavy resistance.
"What the?" You mumble as you push hard against the door. You hear someone swear before shuffling on the other side. When you can finally open your door all the way you see Logan standing in front of you. Was he out here all night?
"What do you want?" You ask tiredly. You're really not in the mood to deal with him right now.
"I..." Logan doesn't know where to start. How to even begin to apologize. Sighing you close your door but Logan sticks his arm out.
"Wait! Please, just, I need to say some things. You don't have to forgive me but I need to say them." Silently you open your door and let him in. He watches nervously as you make your way to your couch.
"You're dead in my world." He winces at his own bluntness.
"And I killed you." Logan paces back and forth as he tries to piece together his nightmares.
"It was supposed to be a simple mission. Recon. I don't even go on those kinds of missions but I didn't want you going alone." He squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers.
"Logan!" You scold lightly.
"Keep your hands to yourself." He smirks as he walks you up against the walls of the jet.
"You don't normally complain about where my hands go." Rolling your eyes playfully, you place a kiss on his cheek.
"Just wait till after the mission okay?" He winks and pulls you in for a kiss.
"Fine, but after this I get you all to myself."
"We walked in and everything went wrong."
Something was wrong and he knew it. Still you insisted on finishing your mission. The moment you stepped through the door he wanted to take you and run. He should have. But he acted too late. The things he saw, A wall separating the two of you. Hearing your screams for help as he couldn't get to you.
"Well well, aren't you an interesting one." He looks around for the voice but all he can see is darkness. His claws swipe at the wall as he hears your voice pleading for his help. Suddenly the wall lifted and all he could see was someone with a gun to your head. He doesn't hesitate to jump into action. Fighting with everything he's got.
"Logan!" Your scream sounds far away as he shoves his claws deep into the man's stomach.
To his confusion the world begins to melt around him. To his horror he sees you standing in front of him. Cuts and bruises on your face, not caused by the enemies, but by him.
"It's okay," You whisper. Your hands shake as you try to reach out for his face. He doesn't want to look down, knowing that if he does, he'll see his claws deep in your stomach. Slowly your body sinks to the ground. His claws retract and you cry as they leave your body. He wraps his arms around you as you grow weak in his arms.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He repeats over and over again. His hands press on your stomach and you groan in pain. There's too much blood but he doesn't care. He can fix this, he can save you.
"Logan, It's okay my love." You brush his face with your bloody hand.
"No! I can fix this! We just have to get you home yeah?" He tries to move you but you scream in pain. It's too late, you've accepted it but he can't seem to.
"Come on sweetheart, please." He pleads desperately as he brings your body closer to him.
"Please, I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," It's getting harder to breathe but strangely you're completely at peace. Logan doesn't understand how you can be.
"I'm sorry, I love you." He doesn't let go of you, repeating that like a mantra as you die in his arms. 
"I killed you, I let whatever fucking asshole inside of my head and I killed you." He stops pacing and finally looks at you.
He blinks and it's like he's back in his nightmare. Blood on your face, a pitiful look on your face as you try and comfort him in your last moments. It makes him sick.
"I saw you everywhere I went, I let it ruin me. I became the monster you said I could never be." You reach out of him but he recoils from your touch.
"Then Wade found me and now I'm here thinking maybe I had changed but now you're fucking here. I see you every time I close my eyes and now I see you here." His claws come out in a fit of anger as he slams his hands against the arm of your couch.
"And you're so nice, too nice. You look at me just like she did and it kills me inside." His claws retract as he slowly approaches you.
"I'm sorry for hurting you, I don't deserve this. Any of this." Tears pool in your eyes as you watch the man break down right in front of you. Weighed down by the guilt of his past. Things begin to click together, why he's been so hostile towards you all this time.
"Logan, what happened isn't your fault." You say calmly. His breath hitches, you sound just like you did back then. Same tone and everything.
"If I was stronger, smarter..."
"You were tricked, it was an accident." You slowly move closer to him, worried that you'd scare him like a wounded animal.
"How can you be so kind about this?" He asks in disbelief.
"I killed you!"  His claws come out as he brings them dangerously close to your face.
"I put my claws through you, I watched you bleed out in my arms."  You gently touch his claws, moving them away from your face and bringing his hand to your chest. He resists, not wanting to touch you. Not wanting to hurt you
"I'm not her Logan. I'm here, I'm alive. You don't have to push me away." His eyes close as relents and places his hand on your heart. The steady beating grounds him back to reality. His memories slowly fade as he listens. Now only focused on you.
Ba bump Ba bump Ba bump 
"I know you think you deserve the worst. But you don't. Maybe, maybe this isn't the punishment you think it is. Maybe, the universe is giving you a do over.” You two know that you're different from the ones that you loved. That no matter how much you look like each other, its never going to be the same. But the same for both of you means death, loneliness. So maybe this is a good different.
“You’ve always been too good for me.” He says.
“No, I think I’ve always been what you needed.” Logan lets go of you but he stays close.
His thumb reaches out to brush away a stray tear. He cups your face and leans in slowly. He seems reluctant to take the final leap. To truly accept that he deserves good things so you meet him half way. Tugging at his shirt you bring your lips to his.
It's soft and sweet. Like a first kiss you share on the front steps of your porch after a first date. A first kiss, a fresh start. Logan deepens the kiss, guiding you gently to the couch. His lips travel down to your neck, nipping at your skin as he mumbles apologies.
"Logan," You squeak. He sits up, worry on his face.
"Too much?" He runs his hand over where he bit.
"No, but maybe we start slower. Breakfast?" Logan almost laughs at the idea of something so domestic but a fresh start is what he wanted. It's what he's gotten and he's not going to waste it.
"Yeah, breakfast sounds good."
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messylustt · 1 year
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words
fic masterlist previous part pt six next part
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mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.
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Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.
As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."
"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.
You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.
You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."
"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."
"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.
You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"
"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.
You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"
"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.
You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."
"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.
You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"
Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."
You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.
"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.
Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."
"Hobie."
But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."
;;
You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.
"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.
"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.
"Apparently I'm not fired?"
"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."
"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"
Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.
"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.
"Actually a lot has happened."
"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."
Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."
"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.
Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."
"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."
And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.
Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.
You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?
Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.
When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.
But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.
It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.
You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”
Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.
Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.
You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.
You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.
“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”
“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.
“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.
Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.
“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.
“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”
“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.
Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”
“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”
“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.
Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.
“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”
“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.
“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.
Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.
Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.
“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.
You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.
“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”
“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.
Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.
“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”
You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”
A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”
Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”
“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.
“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”
“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.
“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.
“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”
“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”
“And it still is.”
“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.
But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.
“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”
“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.
“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”
And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.
Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.
There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.
And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.
But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.
So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.
He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.
At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.
“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”
“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”
You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.
“Many people use phones for different thin—“
Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”
You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.
“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”
Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.
Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.
;;
A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.
You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’
“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.
“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.
“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”
“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.
“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.
You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”
“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.
“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.
“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”
“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.
“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.
“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.
You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.
“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.
“Am I?” He again prays innocence.
“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”
“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.
“What?”
In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.
“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.
“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.
“Find what strange?”
“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.
“I’m not following.” You say slowly.
“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.
“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.
“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.
“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.
“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“
But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.
“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.
As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.
Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.
But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.
Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.
“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”
Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.
You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.
You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.
“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”
“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.
“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.
“Quiero ir a la feria.”
“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.
After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.
Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.
And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.
“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.
You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.
Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.
“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.
Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.
Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.
The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…
“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.
Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”
“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.
He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”
“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”
You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.
You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.
Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”
Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.
He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.
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ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad
this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6
5K notes · View notes
a-hazbin-reader · 7 months
Note
Okkkk I am loving all the alastor with twins idea's 😍 💕 💖 could you do some headcannons where he takes the twins on day full of errands like going grocery shopping in cannibal town and a overlord meeting stuff like that
I'm just gonna add a new one here...
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
✅️Parental
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TW: Kids being chaotic, Babies biting, Alastor X Mom!Reader towards the end
Description: ☝️⬆️
Normally, Alastor avoids taking the twins out by himself, preferring to double team it with his wife
It's just so much easier with you by his side
But when his wife needs a day off or is too busy to go with him? It's full on dad mode for him
He talks to them the entire time as if the three of them are having a real conversation
"Which of these two do you think your mother will like more?"
"Baba!"
"You're right, obviously we need to try someplace else."
Takes the kids to visit Rosie and pick up some of his secret snack stash along the way
Rosie absolutely hogs the twins and keeps them in her lap for the entirety of the visit
She coos and fusses over them, allows them to wear her hat and chew on her limbs
"Alastor! Look at those chompers! You're gonna have some real trouble on your hands soon!"
If Alastor takes them to overlord meetings, then Rosie and Zestial will each hold a twin
Rosie is content to just ignore what's being said and snuggle with a baby, smell their fresh baby scent
Rosie that's creepy
Zestial likes to blow on their twitchy little ears just to listen to them growl and bleat at him
It's a game to them
The twins literally can't get enough of Zestial's voice and the way he speaks, always just hypnotized when he opens his mouth
Carmilla is secretly dying inside to hold a baby but won't admit it until Alastor offers it up to her
She melts the moment a baby is in her arms, smiling and rubbing noses with the baby
Her daughters will absolutely beg to hold them though
Velvette is pissed because she can't take photos of the babies or even hold one, the last time she tried, she almost lost a finger to those teeth
Alastor loves how he can basically control how an overlord meeting goes just by bringing in his babies
He wants everyone off topic so that they don't look into something he doesn't want brought to light? Good day to bring the twins
If he's taking the twins for a walk, then he's definitely got those child leashes so that he doesn't lose his babies
It's also to keep them from going feral and biting people but nobody needs to know that
If they run into Vox, then he'll suddenly accidentally drop the leash just to watch his kids take Vox down
The TV head won't be getting up without a few bite marks on his screen, Alastor holding almost angelic looking twins in his arms
"My most sincere apologies, Vox! Teething has just been so hard on the twins..."
"Oh fuck you!"
"Ba!"
"Not you!"
Alastor is surprisingly patient and understanding when it comes to his children's needs
He's able to quickly figure out what they want and avoid a tantrum
"Are you hungry, dear one? Papa has just the thing for you~"
And if they do have a tantrum...he knows how to get ahold of his wife...
He'll take them to a park and play games with them just to tucker them out, he actually seems like a normal dad in those moments
Usually by the end of the day Alastor can tell that the twins are tired and missing their mom
He misses her too
Is so exhausted when he gets home and collapses in your arms, rubbing his face into your shoulder
"How was your day out~?"
"Pleasant, but it would've been better had you been with us, my dear~"
You can't help but smile as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you in for a generous kiss
That's the only moment with you that he gets before the twins push between you two
"BA!"
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I love these family asks so much
1K notes · View notes
happy74827 · 3 months
Text
The Perfect Gift of Appreciation
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[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.
WC: 2897
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,
A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔
『••✎••』
He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.
It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.
You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.
"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.
The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.
"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.
Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.
Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.
The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.
"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.
Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.
Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.
"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"
You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.
The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.
The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.
You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.
The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.
You had no other choice, and he knew that.
So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.
The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.
His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.
You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.
Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.
"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.
"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"
Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?
He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.
"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."
You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.
Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.
Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.
So why the sudden change?
You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.
The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.
Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.
Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.
"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.
He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.
He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…
You know, the typical doctor questions.
Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.
As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.
He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.
The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.
Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.
Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.
The numbing shot.
The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.
He almost looked bored.
You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.
You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.
Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.
The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.
It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.
Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.
Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.
"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.
"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"
That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.
When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.
Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.
"You know, I miss this."
You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"
He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.
Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"
"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"
You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.
A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.
His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.
It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.
When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.
The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.
The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.
Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.
It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.
He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.
Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.
Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.
He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.
Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.
You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.
"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.
Damn, that was fast.
He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.
The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.
"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."
"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.
You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.
"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."
You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.
It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.
You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.
Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.
Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.
And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.
As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.
There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.
You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.
Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.
But tonight? What a true blessing.
You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.
Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.
And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.
You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.
It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.
Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.
Well, no one except you.
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[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️
I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈
340 notes · View notes
pedrilcvr · 15 days
Note
Heyyyy oh my gosh I love your work so much, I was wondering if I could request a Pedri where he forgets about his plans with her and she was always understanding but with this being the fifth time, she’s over it and confronts him? Angst please!
All I ever asked — Pedri Gonzalez.
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Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader
Summary: He was late. For the fifth time that month. You’d waited in the restaurant for an hour and a half, coming up with flimsy excuses as to why your boyfriend hadn’t arrived, come to find out, he was sitting at home. The whole time. You’d had enough. Arriving home exhausted and upset, you can’t help but ask the question you’d been wondering for a while. “Do you even care?”
Disclaimer/s: angst to comfort , but thats pretty much it! oh and lots of cursing..
A/N: men (forehead slap)
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Leaving the restaurant, you felt embarrassed. Humiliated, even. The waitress had given you the most pitiful look as you excused yourself, leaving her a tip and apologizing profusely.
You’d finally gotten home exhausted and angry. Your heels had dug themselves into your feet, leaving a throbbing ache even as you took them off. Holding them by the tips of your fingers, you trudged your way to your bedroom.
Opening the door, your eyes land on Pedri, who was sitting comfortably in bed on his phone. Was this a sick joke?
“Hey baby—“ his voice trails off, eyes scanning your outfit curiously, “where were you?”
You scoff. This had to be a joke. “Oh, just at the restaurant, waiting for you. Because, well! We had a fucking date tonight.”
Pedri’s smile falls instantly, “oh fuck.” He mumbles, throwing the comforter off him as he moves to stand, but you raise a hand, stopping him. “Shit, i’m sorry—“
“Save your fucking apologies, Pedro.” You snap, tossing your heels off to the side before opening the closet to fish out some pajamas. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Like seriously, five times in one month? Are you actually fucking kidding me.” You begin rambling off, angrily shuffling through the drawers.
Letting out an anger filled noise, you slam the drawer shut. You’d forgotten today was laundry day, so your favorite pajamas, the ones you’d been dying to change into the whole ride home, were in the washer.
Pedri watches nervously as you angrily look through the closet. He’d been so busy lately, every date you’d reminded him off, had slipped his mind. There was no excuse, he knew it. And you’d been so understanding, but tonight he knew he really fucked up.
“And! To make it worse, do you fucking know what day it is? How special of a date this is supposed to be?” You whip around, pointing a finger at him.
Your anniversary.
Pedri groans inwardly. He was such an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t how it slipped my mind—“
“Our anniversary, ‘slipped your mind?’” You make air quotes around it, your eyes rolling. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eyebrows furrowing, Pedri stands from the bed. “Hey—that’s..” but he stops. He knew you’d need your space, but kicking him out of bed? Seriously?
“That’s what? What Pedro.” Your jaw tightens, using his full name just to show how pissed off you really were.
“Stop calling me that,” he sighs, taking a few steps toward you, “i’ll make it up to you.”
“Good fucking luck.” You laugh, although it’s full of spite, not humor. “You’re a real fucking dick, you know that? Four dates, and our anniversary. All forgotten. For why? I get you are busy, but am I seriously that forgettable? Do you even care?”
You seemed to have struck a nerve, because Pedri’s face hardens. “You know you aren’t, and you know I do. I—“ he closes his eyes, running a hand over it, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry, i’m sorry.”
Your lips purse and you grab a T-shirt off the rack, “whatever. I’m tired, I need to shower, and I want to go to bed. We will talk tomorrow.” You laugh, “oh, unless you forget about that too.”
Pedri says your name, almost hisses it. “I know you’re upset, but seriously? I’m trying here. It’s been a busy month, and I know that’s no excuse—but can we just talk about this like adults?”
Eyes widening, your face contorts, eye twitching. “You are such a—a man! You—“ Your voice cracks, but you suck in a long breath. You will not cry. “All I ever asked of you this whole month, is that you take me on a date.”
Pedri’s face softens and he takes the final few steps toward you, pulling you close to his chest with one hand on your lower back, the other holding your head near his heart. “I’m sorry, i’m being a dick—I am a dick.” He murmurs, placing light kisses to the top of your head.
“I love you.” He sighs out, “I love you. I—“
“I fucking get it.” You huff, eyes closing as you listen intently to his heart beat, the soft, rhythmic thumping calming you down. “You owe me big time.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” He smiles, hands coming up to hold your face, “anything you want, i’ll give you. Just know, I am sorry.”
You pout, nodding. “Let’s start with you switching the loads while I shower, you’re on laundry duty for the next two months. And dishes, and cooking, and—“
“Got it! I got it!” Pedri chuckles, leaning down to place a small kiss to your lips, “i,” peck, “love,” peck, “you.” peck.
You try not to smile, you try to stay mad, you deserved to be mad. But you fail. Your cheeks pressing into Pedri’s callused palms with how wide you were smiling. “You make it so hard to be upset.”
He hums, kissing your forehead. “Good for me, honestly.”
“Whatever, i’m still pissed off. You’re lucky I love you.” You grumble, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
“The luckiest man alive.” He agrees, squeezing you thightly. “So..” He really shouldn’t push this right now.. but he has to ask, “do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?”
“Oh, well, yes! You’re not getting out of this unpunished.” You pull away, bopping his nose with your finger before skipping toward the bathroom.
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DTS , @halfwayhearted !
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hitomisuzuya · 1 year
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Brat taming. Scaramouche x fem! reader Smut. Degradation. Fingering. Cunilligus. Orgasm denial. Dom!Scara. He is kinda really mean in this, but soft as well. Some manhandling. Pet name.
An ode to the tired cause I am. Thank you for being patient with me. As always, thank you all for the support❤️
Scaramouche could tell you were tired. You weren't sleeping at night. And if you did, you only dozed off for a minimum of an hour or two at most. Usually, he was the one awake at night, with you conked out in his arms.
He was worried.
Really worried.
You felt a hand stroke down your hair, hearing a scoff. "You should be asleep," He said, looking down at you. You felt so warm against him, he always insisted you sleep naked with him.
"I am trying, Scara," You replied, huffing a little.
Now, he knew he could be a brat. A hellion. But you had a mouth on you to. You weren't afraid to mouth off to him, and that both pissed him off and really aroused him.
It is one of many reasons why he is in love with you.
"Sleep," He said, tipping your head up to look at him.
You blinked twice. "No," You said flatly.
Never did he think one word could make his cock throb so much.
Scaramouche rolled you over onto your back. "Hmm? What did you say?" He glared down at you.
You set your jaw stubbornly, replying without hesitation, "No, I won't sleep," There was such a defiant look in your eyes. Sure, you were tired, but it was the principle of the thing now. It is pretty much a reflex for you to stand up to him like this. As odd a time as it was to do so.
"What a mouth you have on you, slut," You were going to be in for a long night. Scaramouche knew what he had to do, and thought exhilarated him. He was going to put you in your place, and fuck you exhausted.
Your defiance is always a turn on for him.
Scaramouche wasted no time working his tongue sloppily over your cunt. His tongue dipping inside of you, swirling around your now throbbing clit. You were close to cumming. You always whimpered, and twitched a certain way.
"Are you cumming, whore?" He asked, latching his lips around your clit, sucking firmly as you let out your signature whimper, pressing his face onto your cunt. He smirked. "That's too bad," This wasn't the only orgasm he was planning to ruin.
The more he ruined, the harder you would cum.
Scaramouche shushed you, holding one of your thighs open. Before you could whimper in protest, he plunged two fingers inside of you, making you gasp in pleasure. Your hips bucked up into his fingers, gripping the sheets when his fingers nudged against your sweet spot.
Having been denied your first orgasm, your walls clamped sensitive around his fingers. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring your walls apart. He hooked his fingers against your sweet spot consistently.
"Don't you dare cum without my permission," He hissed, slamming his fingers inside you. Your thighs trembled and burned, your orgasm building in your stomach again.
You couldn't help it. You suddenly squirted on his fingers, panting and writhing as you let out a high pitched moan of pleasure.
"Tch," Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of you, licking them before he grabbed a handful of your hair. "What a filthy whore, cumming without her Master's permission," He hauled you off the bed by your hair, making you yelp.
He shoved you down onto your knees, pushing his cock against your lips. "Open up and suck, slut. Beg for forgiveness on your knees," Keeping a tight grip on your hair, he brought your face closer to his cock.
Your tongue curled out to lick the head of his aching cock. "I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me, please," You licked up and down his cock, sucking lovingly on the tip.
Scaramouche groaned, pushing your mouth down onto his cock. Your throat spasmed as you choked, enjoying seeing the tears well into your eyes. "Keep talking, slut," He took your mouth off of his cock, glaring down at you.
"Please, Master. Please forgive me for cumming without permission," You pleaded, looking up at him as you sucked on the head of his cock again, "I promise I won't do it again."
Holding your head in place, Scaramouche thrust his cock back into your mouth. He seemed entirely uncaring, hitting the back of your throat. His pace turned harsher, using your mouth as he pleased until cum spilled into your throat.
"Swallow, fucking slut," He groaned, holding your mouth on his cock as you swallowed.
The way he tossed you back down onto the bed was almost gentle. Pining you down on the bed by your shoulders, he grinded the head of his still hard cock against your clit, making you squirm underneath him.
"Beg for it," He commanded, leaning down to kiss you. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, curling his tongue around yours. Sucking on your tongue, you moaned into his mouth. He bit your lips as he pulled away.
You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as you desperately sought more friction from his cock. "Please fuck me, Scara! Fuck me senseless!" You pleaded, grinding needily against his cock.
Growling, he abruptly thrust his cock inside of you, bottoming out with one snap of his hips. Your fingernails dug into his skin, your body seizing up in pleasure as he started thrusting.
His harsh, quick pace took your breath away. You could only choke out sobs and moans, pleasure curling tight through you. His cock squelched in and out of your weeping hole.
"Are you gonna cum?" Scaramouche asked, groaning huskily from the way his cock throbbed everytime your walls clamped around his cock. You nodded, letting out that whimper he always adored hearing as you nodded.
"Don't you fucking dare," He swiftly pulled his cock out of you, smirking when you cried out, your face crumbling being denied your release.
"Ugh, please Scara! Please can I cum now?! I'll be a good girl, I promise!" Your body shook with need for him, your clit throbbing. Your walls were clamping around nothing, begging for his cock to be back inside of you.
Roughly grasping your chin, Scaramouche kissed you again. His mouth swallowed your moan when he suddenly thrust back inside of you. You mewled in pleasure, clinging to him as he slammed his cock inside of you.
You felt every throb of his cock, his cum painting your walls white. The feeling of his warm cum filling you full made you squirt on his cock. He sloppily fucked you through your high, his lips never once leaving yours.
Before he pulled out of you, he renewed the biting bruise he always liked to leave next your throat.
"Good girl," Scaramouche cooed, rolling off of you. He nuzzled into your neck. He felt you return the action with a soft sigh.
Then you were quiet. "Kitten? Kitten?" You didn't answer him. You'd promptly crashed, exhausted. Scaramouche kissed you on the forehead, smiling softly down at you. He pulled you against his chest.
You were finally asleep.
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your-girl-mj · 1 year
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The truth. [42!Miles Morales x Spiderwoman!reader]
summary: He wants the truth, and you can't give it to him.
warning: cursing, mentions of cheating, accusations, arguments. angst (?)
notes: written in 3rd point of view,
created: july 25, 2023
published: july 26, 2023
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exhausted, tired, drained. those three words are to describe what [name] is feeling. dragging her legs on the floor of the empty, quiet hallway of her apartment building. her suit hidden inside her (miles') jacket and some loose pants that her boyfriend gifted her.
Miguel gave her a rough mission with two anomalies on the loose in the same dimension. it's a good thing she her battles didn't leave wounds. god, she missed her bed already. the soft sheets, with miles snuggle up to her from behind.
the girl smiled at the thought of the one she loved the dearest and thinking about what he's doing at this time of hour, [1:47 am]. her heart melted at the image of miles sleeping soundly in his bed and how good he looked when his brows were relaxed and not formed into a scowl.
the air paused its way into her lungs when she opened her apartment door and saw the said boyfriend leaning on the couch's back rest, facing the door. as if he knew she would come back at this time of hour.
her grip on the knob tightened, but not too tight. yet her fingers left a dent on the cold metal. "miles! hey, i didn't know you were coming over." [name] beamed warmly at him, acting as if she didn't come home so early in the morning.
miles' stare was hard and unnerving. "where were you?" he asked, tilting his head as if challenging her for the truth. "the last message i sent you was around nine, saying I'll come over, and its one in the fucking morning." he push himself off the couch, approaching his s/o with threatening steps, slowly closing the door behind her. "so... where were you?"
his face was inches from her, and she hates fights. especially fights with miles. "i was working overti—"
"you said you were sick." miles suck his cheek, breathing out his nose, not buying to her another lie.
"i am!" she defended, quickly thinking another excuse when it was clear she was caught in the spotlight. "por eso... de camino aquí, compré medicinas, teroso." she took his arm, softly squeezing it to ease his worried thoughts. remembering about her last excuse to miles, she told him when he asked for a sleepover. [that's why... on my way here, i bought medicines, treasure.]
though, it didn't stop him from going to her apartment. he wanted to take care of her after she told him she had a high fever. with his mom working in the hospital, he knew a little bit of medicines and treatment. but he was met in an empty home.
his eyes narrowed, not fluttering from her touch, yet he made no effort to lean away from it. "i was so worried." his tone almost gone mute, "i came to your window because i thought you were resting, you weren't there." miles couldn't help his voice as it started to weaver, "pensé que estabas en la sala de estar pero no estabas allí. i've even looked the streets for you." he sighed. [I thought you were in the living room, but you weren't there.]
he runs his hand into his face in exhaustion, as [name] stayed in silent with guilt — guilt, that is slowly eating her up for not telling him everything. he needs to know, he deserves to know. but the thought of him causing his life to save hers always goes through her head. once he knows it's his s/o, he'll feel the need to protect her when she is supposedly protecting him.
"miles, I'm sorry for worrying you." 'and for every lie i told you...' the girl utter yet few words are left in her mind, she embraced him. griping his shirt, having a feeling that shit will be going down soon. "i have something important to do and—"
"and what? tell me." he pulled away as much as he wanted to stay in her arms, but he's a little too pissed right now. "tell me where you were. it's been months." [name] felt her heart drop with culpability, miles known for a long time now. his hard stare soon softens, hating how he's acting.
"cariño, sé que me has estado mintiendo, te conozco. dime por favor..." whispered in his soft voice with her hands in his, miles kissed the back of her palms, he feels like begging for the truth now. [I know you've been lying to me, I know you. Tell me please...]
his patience is getting thinner and thinner as days passed. his girl, disappearing with excuses and lies that he didn't point out. but what's a relationship without trust?
her eyes met his, [name] breath out. "miles..."
"all I'm asking is for you to be honest." his hold tighten, already have a thought about what will happen.
"i... can't tell you." her lips pursed, turning for head to the side. he'll die if he knows about her identity. with all her other version in multiverses; their miles as spiderman... left in dust, crying his eyes out, her body in his arms covered in her own blood. what can prevent such a tragic event when their roles are now reversed?
[name] closed her eyes, trying to leave those horrible thoughts, now breath heavily. she saw other versions of miles, they're mostly spider-people, and her fate in their canon event always left shivers. much like her coworker gwen stacy, her canon event made her peter parker died, when it got their roles reverse.
she can not risk it. she can't. she'll break.
"why not?" miles' jaw visibly clenched, his mind is slowly clouded with horrible doubts.
"miles, you need to understand — " she paused, "i just... can't lose you... i can't tell you." she turned her head away, unable to witness the hurt and anger mixed in his face. it's hard to lie to him. it's hard to resist his plead at times. but there are times when it has its limit.
miles stood, back straight. towering over [name], his face held betrayal when she peaked, and she knew where this was about to go. "you're cheating on me, aren't you?" his face holds a scowl, disappointment, distrust, betrayal mixed into an expression.
"what? no!" she was quick to deny, "i would never do that to you." she frown, hurt for being accused by such a thing.
"that explains more than you ever told me." his tone is starting to rise, with her on his tail matching his voice.
"why don't you trust me?!" her hands flown with an exaggerated movement.
"i did! but you keep on disappearing!" they're now head to head. one holding her ground while the other digging deep for the truth. "on dates, hangouts, movie nights, even in the middle of dinner! what is more to not assume?!"
"its was an emergency!" it was easy to tell the neighbours are listening to the argument right now. how can you not? when the couple who are oh-so-lovely are fighting about one of them cheating.
"of course it was!" her s/o's voice laced with sarcasm before it turned into a venom. "not to mention, i can hear you talking to guys on the phone!"
"it was my boss! he needs me for something!" with her unconventional strength at this moment, she accidentally left a crack on the wall when her hand smacked it while explaining. but miles didn't notice. his eyes were on her, and it didn't leave for a split second.
"yeah right, and what about that tall fucking dude with the funky ass hair?!" he pointed on the couch, remembering when he caught the two of them drinking soda and saying he was a friend at work. he believed her, of course he believed her. but right now, he's doubting eveything.
"i told you, hobie was a friend from work!" she defended once again, not telling the full truth. "i invited him in that time because we both needed rest!"
"rest from what exactly?!" miles felt like punching something, anything. horrible images flashing in his mind, he despise it. he deeply despite the thought.
"you don't understand, i'm doing this for you!" she yelled, dropping the subject. knowing if this continued one or both with end up getting hurt. wounded by harsh words.
"¡ay bendito!" he shouted, his hands almost pulling his braids out as he ran his hand on his head. "enough with your bullshit excuses! if it's not true, then what is the truth? tell me." he demanded, infuriated.
— choose your ending:
tell him the truth.
lie for his safety.
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this is the first time in a while to write again, but miles keep running in my mind 😩
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thisfrailheart · 2 months
Text
prompt: sickfic | july 26 | wolfstar | M: language/swearing - complicated feelings about dealing with chronic illness (anger issues/depression/fear of abandonment/unfair treatment of partner) | word count: 722 | @wolfstarmicrofic
***
"Ow. Shit."
His knee gives out on the way to the door. Pain explodes in his hip, nerves are misfiring and his leg can't handle it. Remus stumbles into the doorframe, hits his shoulder on the edge.
He closes his eyes. Grits his teeth to keep from screaming. He's so angry and so tired. And he can smell himself. He reeks. Pain episodes always make him break out in a cold sweat. He gags a little and wishes the ground would swallow him up.
He hears rustling. A sleepy voice. "Remus? Y'okay?"
Why are you awake, he thinks and despises himself for the rage in his chest. He sighs. "Just go— going to the bathroom."
Remus hopes it sounded neutral enough. There's shuffling and he knows for a fact it didn't. A moment later Sirius is by his side.
"Let me...?"
Remus wants to say 'no' but knows he can't. He hates the other man. And himself as well. Sirius pulls Remus' arm around his own shoulders to help hold him up, puts his hand on Remus' waist.
Remus bites his tongue as they shuffle down the hallway.
"Hip or knee?" Sirius asks and pushes the bathroom door open. Flips the light switch. Remus says nothing. "Both?"
And Remus can't take this. "Yes, it's fucking both, alright? I just needed a fucking piss and I can't even fucking do that without help because one issue has turned into fucking two has turned into fucking three. And there'll probably be a fourth and I'm fucking sick of it! I'm so fucking sick of it!"
He pulls away, stumbles into the bathroom and slams the door in Sirius' face. Guilt takes over immediately and he drifts through the motions for a bit. Too caught up in his own horrid thoughts.
Remus limps back to their bedroom, holding onto the walls. The apology is on the tip of his tongue when he steps into the room. "I—"
Sirius isn't there. His heart skips a beat. Two. Then he notices a sound coming from the living room. The TV. His shoulders sag in relief. He sits on his side of the bed with a sad smile. Sirius arranged his pillows in the way he likes. It's the only way to take pressure off his painful joints sometimes. He wants to cry but exhaustion wins in the end.
Remus wakes the next morning, bitter taste of guilt in his mouth. He sits up with a wince. Feels even worse when he notices that Sirius propped his cane next to the nightstand but didn't actually come to bed.
"You're awake."
Remus shifts to look at Sirius, who's standing in the doorway. He looks tired and his eyes are red. "I'm—"
"Shut up!" Sirius snaps. He stalks into the room, comes to stand in front of Remus. In between his legs.
This is it, Remus thinks. He's finally had enough.
"You see this?" Sirius asks. He bends down to grab Remus' hand, then proceeds to hold it in front of his face. The little black star tattooed on his finger mocks him. "Did you lie? When we stood in front of that officiant and you promised to love me, now and forever?"
Remus looks up at Sirius. He's shaking and close to tears. "Cause I didn't. Through good times and bad, I promised. So let me help when it's bad, you fucking prick. I'm sorry you're in pain, I really am. If I could take it away, I would. But I can't. So we're just going to have to deal with it. Cause I'm not letting you go it alone, you hear me? We're forever. Sickness, health, whatever else." He takes a deep breath.
Remus leans forward, into Sirius. Nuzzles into the fabric of the shirt Sirius had thrown on at some point. It's one of his. He rests his cheek against Sirius' stomach, feels fingers carding through his hair. "I'm sorry for speaking to you like that. I'm so sorry. For what it's worth, it wasn't a lie. I meant it. Mean it. I just wish I wasn't—"
Sirius tips his head back with a gentle finger under his chin. Looks at him with a soft smile. The one that's just for him. "Hush. I love you, now and forever."
Remus' heart calms. "Through good times and bad."
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mushhroooms · 4 months
Text
Pefect (Yandere! Wesker x Reader)
Once again it is 12 AM and I’m writing fanfic 😭
Wesker might be somewhat OOC, I’m just writing what’s in my head so I’m sorry.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Wesker had gotten a coffee and was sipping it when some imbecile ran into him.
His coffee was spilled all over his shirt, at least it wasn’t hot.
Needless to say, Wesker was more than pissed.
But before he can tell the idiot who ran into him off, he sees your face
You’re scared as you make eye contact with him and start apologizing immediately
“I’m so sorry sir!”
He can’t find the anger in him that was there seconds ago
There was something about you.
How sweet your face looked, your genuine apologetic look, and your sweet voice.
He snaps himself out of his daze rather quickly though.
“You run around like you have money to pay for dry cleaning and another coffee”
Instantly, you’re fishing for your wallet in your bag and pulling out 15 dollars.
“I hope this is enough, once again. I’m very sorry I should have been paying closer attention to my surroundings”
He scoffs “This is enough” he snatches the money from your hand and walks away
He turns around and you’re on your way again, except this time more carefully but still with your fast past.
You’re late.
For classes, he assumes. You are wearing the college uniform and heading in the direction of the campus.
The idea of perfecting the human race weighed heavy on his mind, but had he finally found a human he deemed as perfect?
The only way to be sure is to observe you, without your knowledge of course and that was how he found himself where he was now.
He blamed the world for how fragile your poor little mind was and how easily it broke over the nights.
The nights when you wake up drenched in sweat upon feeling his predatory gaze that stared at your sleeping form only to sob when you can’t find the source of the uneasiness.
He stood over your bed, you wouldn’t wake up tonight, he was sure of it. He made sure of it. He slipped a little something in your food to help you sleep better.
He noticed how the nights you woke up in fear affected you, how tired you had become.
How much less you were sleeping. He couldn’t have you dying on him, now could he?
You looked so peaceful, your breathing soft, your face finally looked rested, not worried or exhausted.
He couldn’t help it, he was normally so in control.
But he couldn't stop the way his hand moved to caress your face.
He couldn’t stop the way his mind wandered to him lying next to you, the morning sun flooding in through the window as he caressed your face and stared at you with adoration.
In a world that was safe, in a world where you couldn’t get hurt.
But this had to suffice for the time being.
Long nights staring at you in your most peaceful state.
God, what he wouldn’t do to tear you away from this retched world into his fantasy.
Where you would be safe until the ends of time
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gogobootz1 · 2 years
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Dream A Little Dream Of Me
Eddie Roundtree x Reader
Summary: Stress is starting to interfere with your sleep schedule. But a late-night encounter with a fellow member of The Six might just help you out.
A/N: It really bothers me that the show changed his last name, but I love this man so here you go
Word Count: 1k
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The one thing you really couldn’t find yourself getting used to in LA was the heat. Dry, stifling, and never-ending, it made you miserable. After spending nearly your whole life in cold, dreary Pittsburgh, you were more than struggling to make the adjustment.
The cheap ass house Billy had rented didn’t help things, either. Among its flaws, the lack of air conditioning is at the top of your list. And it’s why you can’t seem to stop tossing and turning. No matter which limbs you stick out from under your blankets, it’s not enough to cool you down. The windows you opened two hours ago aren’t helping either. Growing tired of trying to sleep, you throw the covers off of yourself and sit up.
At the very least, some water should be able to help.
You huff and make your way downstairs, paying no mind to the time. Grabbing a glass from the kitchen cabinet, you let the door swing shut. Once you’ve sipped on your tap water for a bit, you decide a snack might help too.
Still holding your cup in one hand, you start rummaging through the fridge with the other.
Leftovers were clearly out. As delicious as Camila’s lasagna was two nights ago, you didn’t want to bother heating anything up. Not to mention that Warren would probably want it for breakfast. Billy specifically said that the apples he bought were off-limits, but you aren’t necessarily opposed to pissing him off. You are, however, concerned about his taste. He probably got red delicious or Jonathan or something equally as gross, so you can't have that. Finally, you strike gold. The deli drawer. At least one Dunne brother has your back. Graham made a B-line for the deli counter on your grocery trip the other day.
You snag two slices of cheese out of the packet and start eating them while looking to see if the fridge has anything else to offer.
"Are you eating deli meat straight from the fridge at 2 AM?"
You whip around to find Eddie staring at you expectantly. For a second, you're like a deer in headlights. Caught red-handed, standing by the evidence. You swallow the final bite of cheese you were working on.
"No."
He makes a face that tells you he is not at all buying it.
"It was cheese," you mumble. Quietly, you continue, "why are you in here anyway, Edward?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe to see who was making all that noise?" He shrugs angrily. For the first time, you take note of his pajamas. The blue and green plaid really compliments the white Rolling Stones shirt he's got on. His hair's all tussled, probably because he was just sleeping.
"Shit, I woke you up, didn't I?" You whisper, internally kicking yourself. The fridge closes behind you as you take a seat at the kitchen table. You rest your head in your hands. "I'm really sorry, Eddie."
The sincerity in your voice takes him off guard. Typically your relationship is characterized by bickering and teasing and sticking your tongues out at each other like when you were little. This is a rare moment of vulnerability for you.
Eddie takes the seat across from you at the table. "What are you doing up in the first place?" He asks gently.
"I'm too hot," you complain.
"Sure are," he nods, and you kick him. "OW! Jesus, I was joking."
You sigh again, guiltily, "sorry."
"Cranky much," he rubs at his knee, "did you get any sleep at all?"
"No," you say miserably.
"Wait, are you serious?" Eddie asks, and you nod. "We were in the studio all day, and you stayed late to record the extra trombone part. Aren't you exhausted?" You nod once again. He lets out a sigh, "what's keeping you up then?"
"I already told you, Billy needs to fix the damn air conditioning," you grumble.
"And that's all?" Eddie sounds skeptical.
You sigh, "I don't know. It's just- a lot." He gives an encouraging nod, and you continue, "we're not in Pittsburgh anymore, and everything's new and different, and this is our shot, and if I blow it-"
"Woah there," Eddie stops you. "First of all, if anyone blows it, it'll be Graham for spilling something on someone important." That pulls a laugh out of you, and he smiles. "And I know things are different, but it's exciting too. If you ever feel homesick, though, we'll just drive around until we find someplace that reminds us of Eat'n Park. Okay?"
You nod softly at his words, and he stands up. You send him a questioning look.
"Come on," he says, "you've gotta get some sleep."
"Eddie, I've tried," you insist. He rolls his eyes at you.
"Then at least come sit on the couch," he pleads. You reluctantly follow him into the living room and plop yourself down on the sofa. "Close your eyes too. If they get any more bloodshot, people will think we're high all the time."
"Aren't we?" You ask, throwing your arm over your face. You don't see him shake his head at you while he grabs his guitar.
"Since you woke me up, you get to hear what I've been working on," Eddie says. He pushes your legs over so that he has room to sit.
"Lucky me," your voice drips with sarcasm. Eddie flicks your leg, and you flinch away. "Hey!"
"Watch it, sleeping beauty," he says.
"Or what?" You taunt.
"I'll tell Billy you broke the garbage disposal," he smirks. You bolt upright at his words.
"You wouldn't!"
"Wouldn't I?"
"How was I supposed to know I had to turn the water to use it?!"
Eddie stares at you, unimpressed.
"Never mind, Mozart, play on," you nod at him. Eddie starts strumming the guitar, and you sigh, laying back down.
The melody is slow and sweet, mesmerizing too. Your intentions of listening closely to offer feedback quickly slip out the window. Especially when he starts humming along. You don't even feel yourself starting to drift off. Your acute awareness of the temperature in the house, your dry mouth, or any residual hunger that haunted you earlier slips away.
Eddie goes on playing for a bit before he looks to you for your thoughts on it. When he finds you fast asleep, he sighs, "that good, huh?" He shakes his head with a smile on his face. Eddie stands and hangs the guitar back on the wall, retiring to his own room. He'll make you listen to it again in the morning.
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scekrex · 5 months
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Hi I am wonder if you could do anothe part for overlord!reader, like maybe news on how reader has Adam got out and now reader has to take time from his personal paradise to deal with the rest of Hell. Their place is hidden away so he doesn’t really have to deal with attack but he does have to deal with contant calls to buy or hand over Adam. Reader is just increasingly piss off and at some point Adam decide to help him chill out by snuggling him when it became clear he’s close to losing it. It gotten bad enough that Adam straight up drag a reclining couch to his office which help which helps wth work because an angel being all cuddly nearby would motivate anyone haul ass quickly to join them
Fuck I'm such a sucker for the soft bond overlord!reader and Adam have, I wanna write for em all day long ughhh
Bird of Hell's Paradise
Lover come hold me
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
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After that little date you and Adam had enjoyed the prior week, news that the former angel was living with you spread through hell’s seven rings like a disease. And while your life as an Overlord in general had grown more stressful ever since the exterminations had been invented, this was a new peak of stress.
People kept reaching out, strangers managed to get their claws on your phone number and had the audacity to call you and ask for how much you would sell the first man to them, not understanding that Adam was not for sale. The first man would continue to stay at your place for as long as he desired and if one day he should decide that he no longer wants to spend eternity with you, he could move out. Selling him to some limp dick Imp was off the table though. Hell’s residents didn’t seem to understand that though, they kept calling you, blowing up your phone like there was no tomorrow, your text messages were full of people offering insanely high amounts of money for Adam and some people even dared to pay you a personal visit - though those were only people you knew. Not everyone in hell knew where exactly your mansion was located and you were more than grateful for that. A protection spell you had casted recently would also prevent any ordinary sinner or hellborn to ever find it.
You dropped your head onto your desk, the loud noise it made caused Adam to lift his head, his eyes looking you up and down. The first man was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with a displeased expression, “The fuck is going on?” You sighed as you turned your head towards your lover, yet you kept it on the desk, you were too tired to lift it up. “Hell’s demons seem to be very interested in you, my love,” you mumbled as you reached for your phone that was interrupting the situation by buzzing quite loudly, “Fuck off, he’s not for fucking sale like a motherfucking slave,” and with that you hung up, not even hearing the person on the other end out. Your tired eyes watched as the first man left the little room you had organized to function as your office. Apparently Adam himself seemed to have enough of hell’s bullshit as well and you really could not blame the former angel at all. It must be exhausting to know that people down here either want him permanently dead or that they want to buy him like a pet you can just shop. The poor soul must suffer from this even more than you were. You were able to turn off your phone and ignore it, he wasn’t. Not when all of this was about him, after all. You had offered him protection when you had rescued him, now you were not even able to provide a peaceful afterlife for the first man.
In exhaustion you closed your eyes but the silence in your office didn’t last long, this time however it was not your phone that interrupted the somewhat peaceful moment, it was Adam. The first man was dragging a reclining couch through the door, pushing it through the room until he had decided on what appeared to be the perfect spot for it, then he walked over to where you were resting your head on your desk. Without any explanation the first man took your phone, muted the device and put it back on the table. “You,” he said as he lifted you out of your chair. Your body went limp as the brunette picked you up as if it was the easiest thing he had ever done, your head was now resting on the first man’s shoulder instead of the hard wooden desk and your body embraced the warmth that Adam’s body offered. Legs were wrapped around the brunette’s hips and arms held onto his neck, the former angel’s hands steadied your back so that you were not to fall. His soft, shimmering wings he wrapped around you, turning the stressful world off for a moment as he carried you over to the couch he had just dragged here. “Are gonna fucking rest and ignore all that motherfucking bullshit for a couple hours,” he finished his sentence as he flopped down onto the couch.
Adam had never been this touch before, yes he had hugged you, yes the both of you cuddled while sleeping, but him hauling an entire couch into your office just to distract you from the chaos that hell was going through because its residents now knew Adam was living with you? That was nothing you’d turn down - not that you’d ever turn down affection the former angel offered you in general. “Whatever my mighty winged love desires,” you hummed as you snuggled closer against his chest. The brunette’s chin came to rest on the top of your head as he simply held you, the wings provided a comfortable warmth that made you fall asleep quicker than you had thought it would. But the warmth paired with Adam’s scent had you asleep in no time and with a small smile your tall lover watched over his finally resting boyfriend.
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Text
Forget-Me-Not 5
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Characters: Loki
Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.
Part of the Backwoods AU
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You walk out of the bank, tempted to have your lunch at The Horn. You're certain they'd serve it up nice and foamy in a pint. Never the matter, you were never a drinker. Sins of the mother and all that.
You get into the front seat and sit for a minute, contemplating what to do. If you leave the land as it is, burn that shitheap down, drive off into the sunset, well, who will care about what some dead crone owed the bank? That's not how it works. You might think little of shared blood but a name is a name to the powers that be.
You shove your key in the ignition and turn. Your engine cranks and sputters but doesn't roll over. You frown. You just had it serviced before you drove out here. Oils filled, everything was tiptop, so the mechanic said. No lights, no dinging. You try again, twisting harder, but it doesn't catch. You let go as the car quiets.
A slap on the roof makes you jump and you look out the window at the figure right outside. Thor Odinson bends, grinning at you through the glass as he gives a wink. You don't believe in coincidences, especially not in Hammer Ford. You ignore him and give it another go; third time is the charm.
Nothing. Just a puff of exhaust and rattle. Fuck!
"Ah, don't worry, sweetheart," Thor raises his voice so you can hear him through the glass, "I'll take you 'round Vol's--"
"Fuck off," you hit the switch, ensuring the locks are down.
He laughs, "you know, I don't think I ever heard you speak before."
You shake your head and scowl, peering around. Several people watch but quickly put their heads down and continue on their way. Just like it always was. Fucking cowards.
"I see why he likes you--"
"Piss off!" You flip two fingers up in his direction, "now!"
"What? I'm tryna help you out. Sounds like your transmission," he taunts, "or maybe... you got some gravel in the gas tank. Shit, you know, that'll ruin your lines--"
"God! Would you just leave me alone?" You roar as you hit the steering wheel, "you and your fucking family."
"My mother gave me this cheque..." he reaches in his pocket and unfolds a slip, "has your name on it... and would you look at that? She left the amount blank."
You ignore him and grit your teeth. They think you're that girl who could be sold for a sixer and a couple bills. They don't know anything. They don't know you.
You reach over to the glove box and pop it open. You reach inside and take out the bottle of glass cleaner you keep there. You flip the lock up and he steps back, a victorious hum as you open the door just a hair. You aim the nozzle up and spritz him in the eyes.
"Is that clear enough for you!?" You snap the door shut again and thump the lock down with your fist.
He cries out and wipes his eyes furiously. You sneer as you watch him growl and his. He pulls his shirt up to mop at his face and finally stands, blinking furiously. He sends his fist into the glass, shattering it as you yipe. You shield yourself, reading for the next one, but he merely stumbles away.
"You've done it now," he snarls, "just you fucking wait."
"I will be," you holler, "just you come around and see."
He staggers away, groaning as he continues to fuss with his eyes. You watch him in the rearview before you lean back and stare at the lifeless meters in the dashboard. Rest in peace, mom, you left me a whole lot of shit, didn't you?
🏚
You grab the tire iron and leave your car behind. You have no other choice but to make the long trek back to your mother's shack. You get a few looks from passerbys on the main strip, their eyes lingering on the heavy tool in your hand. You're not stupid or weak like them. You're ready to fight back.
You keep your eyes set ahead of you as you crest the first hill. You always hated how this village only ever seemed to be up. You weave around the country roads and turn off into the trees as the sun dips below the treelines. You're tired and sore but not done. You still have a ways to go.
As you come through the canopy that opens to your mother's house, you feel the coolness in the air tingling in your fingers. The chill in your spine is from more than the late cast of a spring afternoon. You grip the iron tight as you stare up at the open door.
You swing around at the kick of a pebble. The iron meets only air as you twirl all the way around. No one's there. You back up, searching the trees. No, someone is there.
A snicker rolls up through the forest. It's him. He's watching you. You won't back down, not this time. You squint into the shadows. Where is that snake?
"Oh my, are we scared?" Loki's hiss crawls up your spine.
You spin again to find another void.
"Don't you remember our game..." he taunts. "Perhaps this time, you might win..."
"Go away!"
"Ten..." He calls out, "nine..."
Your heart races as your eyes tinge. You remember that girl, lost in the trees, listening to him count down, to his pursuit rustling through the leaves behind her. You feel the crash of the ground against your chest and the river water flooding into your mouth. You can't breath as you're trapped beneath another, rutting and ramming, snarling as he snickers in your ear.
"three..." you come back to the present, "two..." you whip around, "one!" You spin the iron and jab it backwards around your side.
He grunts and staggers back as you stumble forward away from his grasp. Loki falters as he grasps his stomach, a clot of red blooming on the inside.
"Shit..." he spreads the fabric, showing the gash. Not deep enough. You hold the iron tighter and raise it again. He chuckles and shakes his head as he looks up at you, "oh darling, you should know by now..." he smirks, "I don't play fair."
Suddenly, you're taken off your feet from behind, a thick arm around your neck and another around your middle. You thrash with tire iron only to be thrown away from the body behind you, hitting a tree so hard you're left breathless. You drop the iron as Loki moves to sweep your feet from under you and Thor brings his foot down onto your chest. You cough as you stare up at the brothers.
Everything stays the same in Hammer Ford.
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