#I know it's. stupid to feel guilty over just. trying to stay mentally sound when things get overwhelming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weekend-whip · 2 years

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Hi, I just would love to say I LOVE your work! It's really well-written and one of my most favorite things to read! I'm a bit curious about how you stayed committed in one project for so long... I've had various multi-chaptered works I posted (and some lying around in the drafts for a long while), but every time i encounter a problem i immediately feel uninspired to post and i immediately tank it. And since I'm doing another multi-chapter fic, I'm scared that I'd abandon it easily. I was wondering how you'd manage to keep on comiting to your own project?

Thank you for the kind words!!

I have to confess, I’m also extremely guilty of abandoning a project partway through. It’s already happened three times in the recent past for other fandoms (and two of those three times were quite literally smack in the very MIDDLE of the projects as well). One day I’ll go back to them. One day.

But with this work? It just means too much to me to just up and quit on it (insert ninja never quit quote here). And I’ve gotten stuck plenty of times as well (Chapter 17, Chapter 23, Chapter 28, and Chapter 35 already jump out in particular ghhhhh) but when that happens, I’ve done a variety of things to try and keep the momentum flowing:

Comb back through Notes: Double check to make sure things are still on track in the way you want them to. There’s been countless times I’ve gotten on a writing roll and accidentally write myself into a hole, only to realize it’s because I skipped over something I should have included earlier, or I took too much time on a scene and I have to reign it in to make room for something else. Other times what I had in my original notes doesn’t fit with my vision anymore, and I have to do some reworking there. Or there’s not enough information/context supplied and I have to add in something. Either way, writing out even the barest thing of a plot thread (even if you hate outlines) can help you determine what you should be doing with your story next.

Read/write other fics/stories. Sometimes my issue is that I’ve stepped away from writing for too long (as I get stupid busy) and it’s not so much that I “forget” how to write, but it can be a little difficult getting back into my “writing voice” and then everything starts to come up bland. By rereading other fics, you can find new inspiration, start to get a mental “language” of how to want to phrase things or describe scenes, a reminder of how to progress with dialogue. etc...basically, for me, it helps me picture my story after days of not really thinking about it, or helps me get a handle of how I want my story to flow.

Of course, you can always reread your own work, which can remind you of where you wanted to take your plot/characters in the first place and give you a jump start like that... but for me that just makes me annoyed that I can’t read the rest of the fic as *I* have to write it asdfghjk. Alternatively, if you find yourself stuck on one story, start writing/working on another! I know, sounds counterintuitive with the “too many wips” thing, but it doesn’t have to be a full-fledged novel! A oneshot, drabble, a writing request, a practice scene...something small that you’re not necessarily obligated to finish just to get the juices flowing again without the added pressure. That one I can say from experience definitely helps from experience!

Do literally anything else. Sometimes you’re just a bit burnt out and need a break from writing! Give that part of your brain some time to rest, and then when you come back to write, it’ll be with some fresh perspective! Being all-consuming in a project may seem like it’ll help it get done faster, but you can’t drive a car with no gas, y’know? Don’t let yourself get too hung up on writing; it’s supposed to be fun! And when it starts getting not fun, step away before you can too frustrated with it (or yourself). Get a snack, grab some water, draw, do a puzzle, go outside, see some friends, whatever! It’s just as important not to neglect other things you love as well. .... *stares longingly at my gaming backlog*

From my own experience, I do tend to get a reignited itch to write when I’m off doing something else. In my case, let’s say I’m playing a video game, but now that my mind has had time to relax from writing, new ideas and a drive to write actually have the energy to come back full force, so to speak.

Straight up start the chapter/scene/part you’re stuck on from scratch (but don’t throw out what you already have either). Again, sounds counterintuitive, BUT by tackling the problem from another angle (i.e. a different point of view, a different turn in a conversation, simply rearranging the order of events, etc) can do INSANE wonders for finding a way through a block. All those chapters I listed above? All had to be re-written to include everything I wanted that would also flow in a logical way. I look at my older drafts for chapters and wince at my original ideas—but hey, I wouldn’t have the current ideas I have now without them, so can’t let myself feel too bad!

And by not throwing out what you already have, you’ve got stuff to work with and reference, which is better than trying to go in blind all over again! You can straight up rewrite scenes you weren’t vibing with, rearrange the order of scenes to experiment with the flow, ask yourself why you even needed a scene in the first place...being able to reflect like that is super indispensable, and in the worst case scenario, you’ve still got at least part of a chapter written, so it’s not like you have zero progress at all!

Take the first/easiest way out, or just eliminate what caused the problem in the first place. It may seem a little dumb, and it’s obviously going to depend on just how big the “problem” actually is or the nature of it, but for the moment, if it’ll help you move forward in the slightest, go for it! Because you can always go back and fix it up later if you want! And if not, you’ve still got a good enough way to get readers (and yourself), from point a to point b. No need to always be perfect; we’re all doing this for fun in the end! And often times a casual reader isn’t going to catch the fact that you may have metaphorically simply put a bandaid over an issue; they’re just here for the fun ride!

But the biggest secret to keep on carrying on? Love what you do! Sounds cheesy, but if you’re not fully passionate to begin with, it’s going to be really, really hard to maintain the drive no matter what you do. Always remind yourself of why you started the project in the first place, remember the story you want to achieve in the end, and be a little forgiving to yourself when things aren’t turning out the way you want them to. You just have such high expectations for your work because it means so much to you that you start putting standards on yourself, and that’s not always good for you or your story.

Learn to see problems not as problems but opportunities; a wake-up call for yourself, a check to make sure the story is going in the way you originally wanted it to, or to see if maybe it’s time for a complete direction! It doesn’t mean the project’s not worth finishing; it just means it’s worth so much to you that you’re afraid to see it fail. But what’s more important: achieving a perfect story that made you want to pull your hair out the whole time, or telling an imperfect story you can always go back and fix if you want, but people were able to enjoy regardless because it got done?

And hey, sometimes you do just have to write a bad chapter/scene/story just to push onward (Chapter 11 of Book 1 is this for me ghhhhh it’s so far from my vision and I never could fine tune it in just the right way I wanted BUT OH WELL). Not saying you should just ~abandon all quality~ when things aren’t going your way, but.......it’s not the end of the world if you do, either. That just means you’ve presented an opportunity for yourself to look back on how you’ve grown! And that’s not a bad thing, right?

Anyway, that’s just some advice from my own experience/circumstances; hopefully it helped in some small way, at least! ^^

#but trust me i'm very scared that the day will arrive where i can't do this anymore #however #i really am having too much fun to stop now x3 #so whatever I do manage to accomplish i'll be satisfied with #asks from nice people

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necromanticfemme · 2 years

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💞 stay strong ❣️ in my experience venting helps you resists the urge to go back to those who hurt you so if you feel comfortable here is a safe space for you to do that

cheers anon :))

(tw for vague venting abt grooming and emotional abuse ig? no obligation to read lol)

i tried drafting up a message to reply to the friend and try to vaguely explain that i definitely do not want to unblock him and this is a boundary i am going to be very firm on for the sake of my own mental health but like,,, it's so hard since she (and everyone else from that friend group) still actively keep in touch with him a lot more than i keep in touch with them so i KNOW anything i say will get sent on to him and he'll definitely have his own version of events to give them and probably make me out as irrational and crazy. he has a pattern of doing that to girls.

it's just so. messy and horrible and on one hand I'm so proud of myself for even getting to this point where i'm brave enough to cut contact for good, but also i feel really guilty and still get so paranoid that maybe he's right and i'm not at all justified in feeling the way that i do. even calling him my abuser makes me feel afraid of what he'd say to that term being applied to him, even though conversations with other friends since have really made it clear to me that what it was was emotional abuse.

i feel so stupid for letting it get to that point in the first place - i was sort of the instigator of things, since it was lockdown in 2020 and i was incredibly lonely and he was my cool older online acquaintance that i wanted to talk to more. he was about 20 and i was 16, to be precise. even that age gap throws up SUCH a fucking red flag to me now, and my irl friends raised their eyebrows at it at the time but i always insisted that it wasn't like that, it wasn't like he was a groomer or anything.

any time i would mention something about our age gap or the way the power balance felt weird sometimes and i wanted him to be more aware of the fact that i was younger and hadn't had the same experiences he had, he'd kind of blow up at me for accusing him of grooming, and that voice that sounds like him still shows up in my mind sometimes when i try to describe the dynamic. and like news flash my guy! i was literally the second underage girl you had a codependent/romantic friendship with over a period of years who then finally got fed up and cut contact after starting uni.

anyways, that's all to say that it's still really hard for me to believe myself when i say that he was bad for me. it's taking me some time to rebuild that sense of trust in my experience of reality but since stopping talking to him my mental health has gotten a lot better and I've gained so much more clarity on how he harmed me. doubly so in the weeks since i blocked him. shoutout to drunk me for finally cowgirling up and pressing the goddamn button. here's to never talking to that fucker again!

#i never told him my tumblr but he cyberstalked his other ex a lot so like its not implausible that he could find this blog lol #so if ur reading this: hi and please never contact me again. rage all you please.#that's probably just paranoia but like. i blocked him on spotify too just in case #i am intimately familiar with his techniques #vent #like i dont know why anyone would but just in case #tw grooming

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mondaysoct · 1 month

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distress of mind.

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

—content: angst, he missed opportunities | part 2: restless night.

—word count: 1.8k

He walks slowly around the room. His eyes dart everywhere around along with memories he used to do with you playing in his head.

He walks towards the kitchen, taking in the smell of freshly baked cookies.

He hasn't come home to baked cookies in over a year, he's missed this place and its little smells and sounds like you wouldn't even believe.

He walks through the kitchen, through the dining room, into the living room. As he walks through each room, he catches glimpses of all of the little things you liked. He loved these tiny moments between the pair of you.

He knows you used to cling to him. He knows that you used to light up like the sun just at the very sight of him. You love to accompany him when he was happy, sad, disappointed or afraid. Serve his mental and physical needs with love.

One thing he’s learned during these years is this how he felt every single time you hugged him or held him. In his darkest, deepest depressions and bouts of ptsd, the one thing that consistently brought him strength and comfort was you.

He takes in your scent, the way your hair feels running through his fingers, he leaned down to the curve of your neck, planting a delicate kiss on skin, his lips slowly trailing down to your shoulder. Your hand is holding him even tighter as you embrace him. “Your touch is addicting.” He murmured, his hands clasped yours, gripping your fingers tightly as your body molded against his. You could feel the tension slowly melt away from him.

“Simon, you know that I love you, right?” You whisper, snuggled closer to him.

“I know…” he muttered, his eyes closing again. “I love you too.”

“You are so sweet you know that?” You told with small giggle.

“Am I?” He whispering soft on your neck.

“When we’re together like this, I have a hard time thinking about anything else beside you.”

“It’s good for you, then.” You exclaim and give him light peck on his cheek.

“That’s what scares me.” He admitted. “I don’t like being weak around you.”

It's almost like everything is right with the world again in the day of his terrible time.

Looking at this room brings back so many memories. Memories that he desperately tried to bury with each deployment.

Bad memories come back to his mind on the night you disappointed with him. There's a part of you that wants to believe it, that wants to trust him and embrace his outstretched arms. But there's another part of you that just, refuses to let you. You don't understand it. You don't know why you can't trust him.

He hears you tell him that you love him, and how you don't want to lose him. It’s at this moment that he realizes he needs to fix his stupid mistake. He wants you. He doesn't understand how he could be so foolish and blinded to hurt you like this.

He moves his hand to wipe away a tear from your cheeks, he wants you to know that now he is here for you.

He grabs your hands and pulls your gaze back towards him. "Please look at me. I... I can't stand the fact that you're upset and..." He struggles to think or speak, as he looks away and exhales deeply.

He was just trying to serve his country. That was the only reason he was deployed for so long. He never wanted to leave you. He could never forget you even if he tried.

But for so long it felt like no matter how many times he told himself that, no matter how many pictures of you he kept on his phone or in his pocket he couldn't forget.

And with each passing day, he felt guilty for failing his own child. For failing you as her mother while you had to raise her alone in her upbringing.

He swallows, desperately trying to stay calm and hide his hurt and anger.

He walks through the hallway and heads towards his daughter bedroom, remembering how many times she'd beg him to come and play with her. He used to feel like he couldn't say no to her. Now he almost feels guilty, knowing that he spent so much time away.

He stops in the doorway and just stands there, taking in the sight of her little world.

He pushes open the bedroom on and takes in the sight of all of those familiar things, the toys, the books, the drawings, the tiny clothes she used to wear, which were now too small for her but still sat neatly folded in her small dresser.

He freezes completely at the sight of it. The room hasn't changed much. They're all almost exactly as he remembers them.

The pictures and photos of her all over the place from when she was just an infant all the way to her most recent birthday. His heart feels like it's being crushed. He should be there to celebrate each and every one of her birthdays, but instead, he's been absent for so much.

He didn't notice it too much before, but her bedroom is filled with plushy toys, stuffed bears, tiny kittens, cuddly things that used to hold her attention and fascination for hours on end.

The walls are scattered with colourful stickers and drawings that she made over the years. He remembers that she always loved drawing. He remembers that she loved playing with her legos and with all the dollhouses she had.

He walks further inside as he approaches her bed. It's a single bed in the corner of the room, covered with her favourite blanket.

The bed doesn't look like it's been made for at least a year. Dust is still settled on the comforter, but underneath the dust lies her favourite teddy bear. The same teddy bear that has never left her side during every night she spent in that bed.

Noticing the slightly squashed bear and the empty spot next to it. The same spot where she wanted him to sleep every night. When her cheeks stained with tears as she begged him to stay.

His vision suddenly blurs. The moment hits him like a wave. He can practically feel it, the warmth of her body, the innocence of her eyes, the soft, gentle voice that quavered with each plea.

"...daddy, please don't go..."

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetie.” He kissed her temple.

He used to spend days playing with her on that bed. He'd make silly noises to make her laugh. He remembers when she'd giggle and shriek with laughter. He tucks her into bed and read her stories every night. He used to lay in bed with her until she fell asleep in his arms.

Noticing her favourite cuddly toy for the first time, she takes everywhere with her, and cling to when she got nervous. You and him got that for her when she was a newborn.

He remembers how she loved to cuddle it each night even in the middle of the summer when it was way too hot. He remembers she always insisted on sleeping with it despite him telling her that it doesn't have to be there all the time. She just loved it that much.

The way she'd hold her teddy bear tightly and sleep with one leg sticking out out from under the blanket.

He remembered when he'd had to pick out all those late-night nightmares, the ones where she'd cried out for him in the middle of the night. She had nightmares almost every night. Nightmares about being alone. Nightmares about monsters and demons and scary things.

It made him feel helpless that he couldn't protect her from each of her fears. All he could do was hold her, cuddle her and whisper her back to peaceful sleep.

A flicker of recognition crosses his face as he remembers the nights he'd spend rocking his daughter to sleep while she clambered onto his chest. The mornings she'd cuddle up next to him while watching cartoon. The way she giggled when he tickled her.

God, he missed that sound so much.

He can’t even properly form a coherent thought right now. All he can think about are the little moments he missed. The little moments he’ll never get a chance to experience again.

The years of pain and suffering suddenly come rushing over him. A single, simple apology doesn’t feel like enough to him. He knows that if he could go back and change every single one of his mistakes in a hertbeat, he would. But he knows that it’s too late for that.

All he ever wanted was to be a good man for you and a good dad for his little girl. To spend every single day, every single moment by your side. He wanted you to never have to worry, he wanted you to be happy, he wants her to be his daughter.

It hits him like a punch in the gut. He wanted to be good dad, and there was no way for him to undo all of the missed opportunities during her chilhood.

He wanted to see her grow up, play catch with her, do her hair, come see his little girl perform in her school musicals or play sport, he wanted to say all the things she needed him to say, he wanted to play every video game with her, teach her drive, he wanted to be there for her when she took her first heartbreak, he wanted to be there for her when she walked down the aisle, he wanted to be there for her at every single turning point in her life.

His breath hitches in his throat as he feels his control slipping away from him. He starts to feel the moisture in his eyes, the tightness in his throat, the stinging in his chest.

He doesn't remember the last time he cried. It's been so long. He almost doesn't even know how to express his emotions properly anymore.

His entire frame starts to tremble as he stands there in the middle of her bedroom, letting her teddy bear slip out of his hands and drop to the floor.

It starts off as a small sniffle, then a few tears.

Then a quiet sob.

Then a full-blown, gut-wrenching cry, the kind that shakes him to his core.

The memory that keeps playing out in his head like a broken record. The years of hurt, the sadness, the disappointment, the guilt, it all pours out, filling the room and making him weak.

He bends down to pick up the teddy bear and clutch it tightly to his chest.

He slowly stumbles forward against the bed, sitting down hard and curling himself into a ball.

"I'm sorry," he whispers to himself.

Thanks for reading ♡

#ℳ—writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #dad simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #writing #cod angst #angst

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chronicsymptomsyndrome · 2 months

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how do you make money with untreated adhd chronic pain chronic fatigue and chronic illness??? What the fuck do I do??? I officially do not have a working washer/dryer as of today and I do not have it in me to hand wash everything and I don’t have the space to line dry that much anyway and when I say I cannot afford a new washer/dryer I don’t mean “I have access money but I’m in debt so it’s not even really my money” or “oh no they’re so expensive I don’t want to use most of what I have on this one thing even though I really need it” like the kind of shit people usually mean when they say they can’t afford something (which pisses me off ngl) I don’t mean I can’t justify the purchase or that it would be irresponsible or that it’s not in my budget I mean “I quite literally do not have the funds to acquire any quality of washer and dryer period. I do not have an income or access to any money.” and honestly if I did I wouldn’t even know how to spend it because I also do not have hot water and also the people that lived where I live before me did not seal the floors so our floors are fucking soggy when it rains which is constantly and also my house is still mostly unfurnished after living here four years. so do I want furniture or hot water or dry floors or clean clothes??? How do I prioritize those kinds of things?? I mean I don’t have to bc I can’t have any of them but in theory?? Instead of making money all I can do is five minutes of dishes at a time (oh a dishwasher would be cool too) and then sit around and ice whatever hurts most and feel guilty for not being more grateful and not trying harder and not getting over my stupid ridiculous fears and going to see a fucking doctor already. ???? I can’t even ask for help bc how would anyone possibly help me other than literally just money??? My dad is the only one that would even consider it which I’m extremely grateful for but then there’s my stepmom who is In Charge and will be like “we’re here for anything you need” and then travel internationally twice a year and remodel their whole already very nice (to me) house and then go “of course we’re happy to help although we are on a budget so we’ll do what we can” and then hand me a 20 :) and I feel absolutely atrocious for not being more grateful that I have parents that will even give me $20 or that I have my parents in my life at all or that I can worry about all of these home things because I have a home, instead of being in the position of actually worrying about a place to stay. It sounds so shitty because I have so much to be grateful for I know but it’s hard to be grateful when it doesn’t feel like you have anything because if you had what you needed wouldn’t you be happier? It’s hard to feel grateful when you’re fucking miserable and every moment of your day-to-day is a huge stress trigger and there is no safe space. I’m so fucking tired mentally and emotionally.

#rants & reflections #delete later #executive dysfunction #traumagenic

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tobthoughts · 6 months

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i hate being a therapist friend

friday, october 27th, 20:54pm

it’s taking everything in me to not send a very long, maybe quite selfish message to someone i know right now. is it selfish to want to put your own mental and physical health first? maybe. they certainly make me feel like it is.

i’ve known this person for a very short period of time but because of moving to university and knowing nobody, if you have even the slightest thing in common with someone you tend to become fairly fast friends.

this is the situation with me and the person this post is about.

we’ve already had ups and downs where we both fucked up, and i feel like everyone thinks this but i genuinely believe that i’ve been wronged more times than i’ve wronged him. we had an argument because i did something stupid that resulted in us not talking for a week, despite numerous apologies on my side, he kept making it about new things. it went from “you said this and it hurt my feelings” (understandable, i said sorry) to “you didn’t reassure me enough” and “you said i was [x] thing” or “you didn’t invite me out with your group”. its not my job to make sure every single one of his needs is catered to at all times, especially when i’m not exactly thriving in life myself.

especially not when he’s done wrong by me SO MANY TIMES. yes i fucked up once and i shouldn’t have done that, but i apologised in depth and explained it from my perspective - i didn’t intend to hurt him. on the other hand, he’s done countless things that come across as intentionally hurtful towards me. he uninvited me from clubbing with our friendship group. he called me pathetic and childish when i was explaining myself. he kept trying to make me hug/kiss/be around him when i had explicitly stated that i needed space and time because i had been sexually harassed/assaulted by a friend of ours and was struggling with processing it. he made me feel guilty for not wanting to be intimate with him, or not wanting to stay over, or not dropping everything to run to him when he’s upset despite the fact that he has ignored me all day.

i don’t know if i’m just being brash or selfish for thinking these things, but no matter how many times i think it over in my head i just don’t understand why he’s become a responsibility of mine when i can’t even look after myself.

we were drinking last night and he had a panic attack, then his best friend basically pushed me out of the kitchen to go and sit with him in the rain because he wanted me to be there. i didn’t even put shoes on. i can’t be expected to just fucking stop whatever it is that i’m doing because he’s struggling. i am not a therapist. if you need help, seek professional help. as horrible as it sounds it IS a burden and it isn’t fair for me to have to try to juggle someone else’s problems whenever its convenient for them, only to have mine and my feelings disregarded.

he bombarded me with messages last night asking me to stay over after i got back to my own flat. he didn’t ask me to stay while i was there. so i message in the morning asking if he’s okay, and he reads it, ignores me and turns off his location. i then get a message from his best friend two hours later saying i was “supposed to stay over”. sorry? i did not say at any point that i was going to stay over. then hours later he messages me asking if i can come over because he needs a cuddle. i was sick today and said i couldn’t come over, but i hope he’s okay.

“well no i’m not okay. i really fucking needed you, i need comfort.”

and then i read it and ignored it, but my head is screaming:

I AM SICK. I AM COUGHING AND SWEATING AND SHIVERING IN BED WITH A HEADACHE. IT IS NOT MY FAULT THAT I CAN’T COME OVER, YOU HAVE OTHER FRIENDS. WHY DOES IT NEED TO BE ME???

why does your mental health get put above my physical health. or even my own mental health.

it doesn’t seem very fair.

anyway. i hope you’re all having a good night. baby’s first vent on the new blog. crazy times.

#blog #diaryposting #personal diary #vent #vent post #tw vent

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ratcandy · 3 years

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If I am Not Responding to You

I am:

- Busy - overwhelmed by too many messages/other things going on - not receiving the message for whatever reason (tumblr does this to me sometimes) - Not in the right headspace to respond

That last one is important! I'm sometimes just. Incapable of holding a conversation, and I just kinda drift off and away into the atmosphere as I struggle to regain Mental Stability for the two seconds it would take for me to respond. sometimes this action takes a lot longer than I would like it to. Depends on the day. yknow what i mean? I just. Can't Do It sometimes. but I've been getting better with telling people this. "I'm sorry, I'm not in the headspace to talk right now" and then On My Way! sdghkj I'm forever viciously torn between "I need to talk now now now now now i need to dump all my thoughts as fast as I can" and "i will never speak ever again" at all times. and it. sucks. but it's where I am

I am NOT:

- ignoring you with intent of angering you or pushing you away - upset with you -> In the case that I am upset with you, I would Let You Know! I can not and will not leave you in the dark over that sorta thing. If something you've done has upset me, you'll know! I will tell you! It might take me a bit to get the confidence to do so but I will Be Sure to Clue You In!

Main point I'm making is that. If I'm not responding to you for whatever reason, it's not personal. I have major athazagoraphobia and suffered a lot of silent treatment guilt trips from an Unfortunate Individual in my Life, so I can NOT do this to other people in good conscious. I try to make all this known any time someone tries to start conversation with me, on the inevitable chance I don't respond to a message for a long time. but. yknow. It might be a good idea to have a sorta masterpost like this so I don't have to explain it every time!

all in all sometimes talking is just hard for me and I go quiet for a long time. this is especially noticeable in servers or group chats. I mainly lurk for this reason shdgkjh. too much happening, too overwhelming, go crazy go stupid brain go kersplat!!

so uh. yea! i dunno what else to say here. but. yeah. undiagnosed mental illness maybe I will one day understand, but until then we sometimes just can't do that talking thing very good and we Simply Don't if we think it'll be too stressful or taxing. so. e

(warning for a bit of venting in the tags)

#time for guilt boys let's get it #I know it's. stupid to feel guilty over just. trying to stay mentally sound when things get overwhelming #but i feel so guilty every time i see a message in my inbox and i just. can't respond #because brain just. won't let it happen right. like. physically yeah I'm capable but I just can't bring forth the. energy?#to do it ''properly''?#i don't like giving people dry responses especially if they've sent me somethign important/they're passionate about #but. man.#fuck :(#and this sucks MORE during the times I WANT and WISH to talk to people because whadda hell!! conversation hard!#i feel guilt any time a conversation fails/dies like I hate this so much man #anyway. um. building on this. please don't send me a lot of messages if i'm not responding!! please that's just going to overwhelm me more #esp on tumblr god I hate the. sound it makes. the notif sound makes my anxiety go SKRRRRR #and for what. why do i function like this. i do not know. mental illness #well. might delete later #my brain is doing that thing where it tells me i'm being a bad person when I am just trying to take care of myself sometimes #yknow how it is #vent #i guess

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diavolosthots · 3 years

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Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.

I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊

For request

First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.

If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!

I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.

Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!

(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)

Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut

Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish

THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)

Lucifer:

Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.

“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”

Mammon:

Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.

“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.

Leviathan:

His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.

“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”

Satan:

For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes

“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”

Asmodeus:

How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.

“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”

Beelzebub:

Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…

“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”

Belphegor:

Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…

“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #tw angst

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

What would happen if you were sent back and ended up in the orphanage with Tom Riddle—and say you also had magic?

Oh boy.

Well, there's a lot to question here. Judging by the... spirit of this ask, I presume I'm... pretty much reincarnated. I'm in the orphanage, I'm much younger than I am now and a child, I'm pre-Hogwarts age, and I retain my current knowledge.

For the purpose of this ask I suppose I also retain my current mental faculties. Despite being in the body of an eight-year-old, I'm not The Carnivorous Muffin at eight.

Welp, there's a lot to consider here.

First, I probably don't realize I'm in Harry Potter for quite some time and instead assume I've been reincarnated to some parallel universe. It's the 1930's, I'm in England in the depression, WWI has occurred and the vast majority of major historical events I know about seem to have happened in the right order, and this Earth is eerily similar to the Earth I left behind.

Strange that I appear to remember everything of my past life with my adult mental abilities, but alright universe, I guess that's how we're going to play this.

What I do know is that I'm dirt poor, presumably still a woman which does not bode well for my career prospects, and if I want any prospects in life period I'm going to have to fight tooth and nail for it. It'd be great if I got adopted to help with this, and might be nice to have people in my life who love me, but there's a lot of orphans in the world and a lot of orphans who are much less weird than I am.

The orphanage is the orphanage and not great, Mrs. Cole is overworked, the orphanage is chronically understaffed, and the kids are running wild beating the shit out of each other.

Being a girl, I probably don't have to worry about getting the shit kicked out of me quite as much, but I still probably try to keep my head down and don't aggravate the particularly beefy looking orphans.

Yes, there's some very angry gremlin named Tom Riddle around who will shove you down the stairs in retribution, but that's just a weird coincidence. And then supernatural shit starts happening. Billy's rabbit hangs itself, people get injuries when Tom is nowhere near them, and I start wondering if this is really the Tom Riddle.

I'm in Wool's Orphanage, my matron is Mrs. Cole, Tom Riddle is running around lighting things on fire. It's possible, though it could all be a strange coincidence.

Now, how things go from here depends on how controlled my own magic is. Since accidental magic typically does manifest at least once or twice, it probably does manifest for me for.. something. If Tom Riddle's there to witness it then...

Well, I imagine he's very offended. Here he was, special, different, better than everyone else, and then some girl in the orphanage (who dares to get very good grades on her assignments in school) has it too.

And I just stand there, smiling, going "Tee hee".

He probably confronts me to prove that he's better at it than I am, and he probably is unless the universe hates both him and me, but having someone else with the Shining around probably prompts him to take me as his protégé (in part so he can show off and in part because he's genuinely excited to be able to share this super cool talent).

I am now apprentice to eight-year-old Tom Riddle. Whoop de doo.

Well, I don't remember this part of Harry Potter, so now I'm probably confused as to where I am again. Regardless, I try to advise Tom on how to tone it down and not, say, traumatize Amy and Dennis for life and antagonize all the other orphans forever. He probably doesn't take me seriously. What do I know, I can't even light that patch of grass on fire?

Hanging around Tom Riddle gets me a reputation to, given the difference in genders, probably a fairly nasty one at that. When Dumbledore arrives he's undoubtedly told hot gossip about how eleven-year-old Tom and I have had sex in a ritual to summon Satan. Dumbledore takes this seriously.

Dumbledore probably meets us both at the same time and it's a disaster. I tried my best to prep Tom without revealing I'm a prophet, Tom first doesn't believe there might not be others, then doesn't believe they would be antagonist/anything but amazed by how awesome he is.

Well, Dumbledore lights his wardrobe on fire while I sit there. Dying inside. Dumbledore probably also does something to me too, to teach me some kind of lesson about something.

I imagine he temporarily disfigures me/makes me appear very ugly, then sticks a mirror to the wall, that way I realize that looks aren’t everything/being a whore is wrong. Tom, still traumatized over the wardrobe, is no help and my magic’s probably not controlled enough to do a thing about it.

I spend a day looking like a pig, Tom and I are given just enough money to buy new wands and second hand/barely functioning everything else and given the world’s worst directions to Diagon Alley. Thanks, Albus.

Well, months pass, we get our wands, Tom gets excited for Hogwarts and I... start seriously considering the future. WWII is coming, the Blitz is coming, Tom and I live in east London and must be able to evacuate during the bombing of London (which went on well past the Blitz to the end of the war). I also start considering my future in the wizarding world. Do I now actually have career prospects?

Probably not because I’m muggle born and a woman. My best bet is doing very well in useful subjects and finding employment with the goblins, I can’t imagine they have the same hang ups as the wizarding world.

Tom wants to go to Slytherin, of course, I tell him this is a bad idea. “Gee Tom,” I say, “Not sure how I know this but I have this feeling that Slytherin is filled with people who loathe our very existence and will shank us. Why don’t we pick Ravenclaw or Gryffindor instead?”

No one shanks Tom Riddle! Tom says. Tom is still eleven and while he admits that sometimes I may, in retrospect, have been right about certain things that doesn’t mean he wants to go to the house known for hard work. That’s code word for everyone there being a moron and having no other redeeming features than tenacity. As for the other two, Ravenclaws sound like smug, elitist, nerds and Gryffindors like dumb jocks.

Better to be known for ambition, cunning, and actually being competent.

Well, there’s no talking him out of this one, and goddamn it we’re all each other has.

I’m the closest thing Tom Riddle has ever had to a friend in all these years and in the orphanage the only one who could hold a decent conversation with him. And while it’s not my moral obligation to keep Tom from becoming a domestic terrorist, and there’s no guarantee I even can, dumping him for one of the other houses and drifting apart won’t help.

Not to mention that, after all these years, I’m undoubtedly lonely, I’m in this foreign land, and he’s now the closest thing to a friend I have.

Looks like I’m going to Slytherin, YOOOOOLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! I shout as a battle cry as tears run down my face. I may have to convince the hat to put me in Slytherin, but like all human beings I am a mixture of many qualities. I’m not cunning in the least, mind games exhaust me unutterably, but I’m full of ambition.

This confirms every bad opinion Dumbledore had regarding me and Tom.

For the next several months, Tom probably beats the shit out of dormmates who steal his things/harass him. He beats up mine too because feminism (TM) means that he should treat all people equally when guilty of the same crime. I... am not sure I can win that fight so I just resign myself to having to adopt some of Tom’s tactics to make sure I’m not shoved in lockers, have tampons thrown at me, or pig’s blood dumped on me at the prom.

Once again, everyone thinks Tom Riddle and I are dating. I don’t even know if they’re wrong at this point.

Well, being in class with eleven year olds who seem to have had little to no prior education, Tom and I are undoubtedly blazing through class. I imagine I’m bored out of my mind (the Hogwarts curriculum sounds unbelievably boring) and Tom is... well, probably devouring the library but probably also bored. I decide to try and see if I can find some real history texts on this world (there are probably none, the wizarding world seems to only have two historians and both... have a different approach to history than current modern thought as I know it) and discover what magic even is. That shit is fascinating: wingardium leviosa is not.

Dumbledore likely gives neither me nor Tom points in class, I think the house cup is stupid, so I really don’t care. I have no interest in playing quidditch, neither does Tom, so that doesn’t happen.

The second world war starts up, Tom, me, and the muggle borns are the only ones who give a flying fuck. I work harder on figuring out how to get lodging during the Blitz/the bombing of London. Unfortunately, Mrs. Cole hates me too for being the Bride of Satan, so that’s a no go. Third year, 1939, I probably write her in earnest anyway telling her to PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, send Tom and I instructions for the summer/where the orphans are staying/how they’ve been dispersed to the countryside. As a back up plan, I try desperately to shmooze shopkeepers in Hogsmeade during every Hogsmeade weekend to get myself and Tom part time jobs and lodging over the summer. As a back up back up plan, I spend my time badgering Tom to become very good at survivalist wandless magic and if the Lord has pity on me gain some ability in it myself.

Hopefully, either Mrs. Cole or one of the Hogsmeade shop owners take pity on us. If not, then Tom and I are going extreme camping. Given Mrs. Cole (and the brain damage brought on by Dumbledore erasing memories left and right) and the likelihood of Hogsmeade shop owners just not getting it, Tom and I probably go extreme camping.

(Tom, meanwhile, asks Dippet and Dumbledore if we can stay in Hogwarts over the summer. He’s told no exceptions. London’s being bombed, you say? No exceptions. Toodles. Tom is never the same.)

Me, Tom Riddle, a tent we made ourselves, several rabbits we had to catch and skin ourselves, and the pitiful fire that we can keep going through pure will alone because if we try to use real people spells then we’ll get arrested. It has the benefit of making Tom feel very manly and impressive, catching his own food, but both of us are well aware that this sucks.

But hey, we aren’t dead.

Well, I’m sure Tom doesn’t appreciate that and this is where I imagine he seriously starts talking about violent revolution. I imagine much of my time is spent discussing the merits of not violently overthrowing our ant overlords. I imagine a thirteen-year-old Tom isn’t impressed by my pacifism, but he’s not married to Voldemort yet (probably).

Then I imagine the horcrux thing comes up and... Well, I will argue hard against it. Humans die, it is a truth of the universe, and simply something we have to accept. Horcruxes are not a measure against that, they can be destroyed, given infinite time they will be, and the sacrifice they require is too high: human life as well as the very essence of who you are.

What is a soul? I’m not sure, we never really learn in HP canon, but whatever it is, it is in some way the essence of yourself. If you take half of it and throw it somewhere else, you will cease to be you, someone or something else is walking around in your body while the other half of you exists in endless agony.

If you must chase immortality, create a philosopher’s stone (as I darkly wonder why it was that couldn’t be replicated and what Flamel had to do to make it in the first place). On second thought, maybe we should search for the Holy Grail.

Whether I can talk Tom out of this or not is... unclear. I’m going to say that I can, in part because I imagine he’ll want to show the chamber off to me, tell me when he realizes he’s Heir of Slytherin, and in doing so I can prevent the basilisk incident from occurring. Without that, there’s no dead Myrtle, which means no first victim. That summer, when he goes to the Gaunts, I’ll go with him and convince him that it’s not worth it. He can just turn around and leave these people alone, I hopefully can talk him down. Which means no second victim.

I start writing Flamel to see if Tom or I can get an apprenticeship (Dumbledore probably beats us to the chase and poisons him against us, but it’s worth a shot).

Then, should all go well, I can convince Tom to find employment with the goblins rather than shady antique dealers on the bad side of town. Hopefully, I can convince him to never become Voldemort, and instead we travel the world together looking for the origins of magic or something.

Dumbledore goes around taking people’s memories of us in preparation for when Tom becomes a dark lord and I his lady of the night darkness.

TL;DR Apparently my life would become an SI/Tom Riddle fic. So, thanks anon.

#harry potter #harry potter meta #harry potter headcanon #tom riddle #albus dumbledore #anti albus dumbledore #meta #headcanon #opinion

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robinofgothamcity · 3 years

Text

♡ prompt: "Do you want me to hurt him?" / inspired by 'telephone' by lady gaga

♡ pairing: bart allen ( impulse ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / my schedule is going to become more sporadic starting next week :/ i'm going to keep the warning up until next week.

"Bart, shut up," you said, jokingly pushing him. he laughed, handing you the ice cream, "what? I'm serious! I just think that mint chocolate is better. if you have just mint, it'll taste like toothpaste and if you have just chocolate, it's too sweet so mint chocolate is a good even ground," he explained.

you felt your phone vibrate as Jinny spoke up, talking about how Bart and Connor shared one brain cell outside of the field. looking down to see who was ringing you, you saw that it was your god forsaken boyfriend for the 100th time.

"oooo, who is that?" Bart asked, looking over to your phone. he read the wall of text you had received but you quickly shut your phone off, not bothering to read it, "you gonna answer that?" he asked, a small bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him.

"don't really feel like it," you quickly said, trying to remain off that topic. Bart, clearly annoyed, snatched your phone and put it in his pocket, "than let's forget about him, right?" he asked, putting on his annoyed fake smile.

Tim and Jinny saw the very irritated face Bart had and looked to each other as they shook their heads, "those two I swear," Jinny huffed out in annoyance. "more like ( your name )," he replied, "Bart could admit his feelings to her face and she still wouldn't do anything about that horrid boyfriend of hers."

the two of them stifled giggles from each other as they watched the two of you continue to flirt openly. it was no secret to anyone on the team. it was very clear to everyone on the YJ team, the Titans, even the JLA knew that the two of you liked each other....a lot but it was that stupid boyfriend of yours that got in the way of Bart ever truly expressing his feelings for you.

"what is everyone's plans after this?" you asked the team as they all murmured different answers, indicating that they were all busy. you sighed, trying not go straight up at the moment because you knew that you'd have to deal with your boyfriends calls when you got there, "I'll stay out with ya!" Bart replied as he saw the empty park bench.

you gave him a grin, "thanks Allen. you're a life saver," you exclaimed, waving everyone off goodbye. you walked to the bench, Bart following right behind you as Bart felt your phone ringing again.

there had been a scarce few times where you did call Bart with your boyfriend problems. it was usually late at night. probably inching near three in the morning when you called him sobbing, asking him if you deserved to go through the bullshit you were dealing with your boyfriend.

Bart always felt himself getting angry whenever he received those calls. you sounded so heartbroken, tired, and emotional. he was always there to help pick you back up but not even a few days later, you were back with him, telling Bart that your boyfriend needed you now more than ever.

"he's still angry that you're hanging out with me? do you want me to hurt him?" he asked, finally taking your phone out of your pocket. you nodded, rolling your eyes, "Bart no. he thinks that my 'job' is taking too much time away from him and I being together. I swear, it's like hearing a broken record. one minute, he's mad and wants to break up and the next second, he's at my door asking for forgiveness," you explained, frustrated.

Bart squeezed your hand, tapping his fingers on top yours, "you know what you need to do," he replied, giving you a serious look. you stared at him, biting your lip, "it's hard, Bart. he's going through a lot and I'll feel guilty if I just leave him," you whispered taking his hand and holding it.

"you literally fight villains for a living and you're scared of that? you know you deserve more," Bart said, "and I've seen the way you look at other girls who decide to flirt with me," he joked, trying to break the tension. "shut up, it's not even like that," you lied, making Bart even laugh more. "but seriously, you know it's not secret that I like you." you sighed, not knowing what to say as you put your head on his shoulder.

the silence wasn't exactly awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. there had been multiple times when Bart had told you his true feelings for you and every time he did, you responded with a hum or a 'okay Bart'.

it wasn't that you didn't accept his true feelings. it was far from that. you actually did like the speedster but you knew Bart could do a lot better. you knew Bart deserved someone who actually deserved him and that person wasn't you. you weren't as cute or funny as he was. he deserved someone like Cassie. smart, funny, and cute.

the YJ tower was completely empty aside from you and Bart. everyone was out doing their own thing. Tim and Connor were at their respective homes. Jinny and Amethyst were out doing god knows what meanwhile Keli and Cassie had gone to the movies to watch a film they both had been dying to see so that just left you and Bart in the lair to do as you pleased.

"Bart, hand me the remote," you said lazily. he handed it to you as you turned it off, getting up and stretching yourself out. Bart stared at you confused, "why'd you turn it off? I was watching that!" he exclaimed. you threw the remote across the couch and getting him up, "lets do something productive and make dinner or something," you replied enthusiastically.

Bart rolled his eyes but got up nonetheless. he followed you to the kitchen as you played music through the speakers that were built on the wall. "what're you making?" he asked, seeing you take out things that made no sense.

you looked over your options and realized you could make some kind of stew or a soup of some kind. "beef and gravy stew! we have enough things to make enough for the team and seconds for the both of us," you said, getting the things from the cupboards and having Bart start to chop every thing up.

you knew Bart was dumb but that didn't mean he wasn't a kick ass cook. there had been multiple times where he had made everyone dinner or dinner even for the two of you and it always turned out amazing. you dumped every thing that Bart had chopped up and proud it into the pot before grabbing a few things from the fridge and making the gravy that had to poured in. it didn't take long but the two of you had to wait until the pot boiled up in order for it to be ready.

the song 'telepatia' by Kali Uchis played over the speakers as you finally turned over to Bart and smiled, "we just need for it to boil and it'll be ready!" you exclaimed. he nodded as you started singing the song out loud. not particularly towards him but a warm feeling in his gut made him get butterflies as you continued.

"you know I'm just a flight away, if you want it, you can take a private plane."

you looked up to Bart, wanting to give him another smile but he quickly got rid of any questioning thoughts and went in for a kiss. you were taken back in surprise. this was the first time Bart had ever put his feelings forward and actually gave you a kiss.

his kisses were soft. they weren't rushed which was ironic considering all Bart was, was being fast and always on the move. you had placed your hands on his thighs as you made the kiss even deeper. it took you a few seconds to register what you were doing when alarms rang off in your head. you had a boyfriend and by continuing to kiss Bart, you were technically cheating on him.

"Bart no, I can't," you murmured, pushing yourself off of him. he gave you a defeated look, understanding where you coming from, "I'm sorry," you replied, going back to the food and trying to forget that you even made the move to reciprocate the kiss. in the back of your mind though, knew it that kiss meant that you had fell for Bart and hard.

"I have to head home, it's getting late and we patrol tomorrow night so I think it's best we head back," you whispered knowing you'd have to deal with your stingy boyfriend when you got home. Bart gave your hand one more squeeze before getting up, "see you later," Bart murmured, getting the inkling feeling that he'd probably receive a phone call tonight from you.

you nodded, making your way towards your apartment. you had a fuck ton of messages from your boyfriend and over ten missed calls by the time you sat comfortably in your couch. you finally dialed him back, instantly getting a bunch of curse words thrown at you for not picking up.

it felt like hours when the two of you finally stopped arguing with each other. it ended with you in tears and your voice hoarse as you had finally grown the nerve to break up with him. you knew for your mental health that it was time to do it and truthfully, your feelings for Bart were growing more and more every time you saw him. there was no point in continuing the relationship if you were no longer having feelings for him and although you felt guilty by doing it, you ripped it off like a band aid.

you grabbed your phone and clicked on Bart's number. Bart on the other hand shifted in his bed, seeing your contact light up his phone. he groggily picked it up, "hey," he said in that sleepy tone of his. you hiccuped, trying to control your tears, "can you come over?" you whispered, the crack of thunder scaring you shitless, "I really need someone right now."

Bart sighed, telling you to give him a minute before hanging up. Bart had no idea how many more of these late night sleepovers he had left in him. he sped over to your place, grabbing the secret key from the back of the broken piece of wood that was attached to your door frame. he opened it, seeing you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and your hiccups still overcoming your body.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you stared at him, tears instantly rushing down your face, "I deserve to be happy right?" he nodded almost immediately, "than why do I feel so shitty because I broke up with him?" you asked.

Bart stared at you, not believing what he was hearing. you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend and he was the first person you contacted.

"because that's what manipulative people do ( your name )," he whispered, "they make you feel like shit for things that you didn't even do. you're perfect and he didn't deserve you or anyone like you. especially you though," he joked, bracing you even harder for a hug. he knew it would be wrong to try and make a move but gave you a kiss on the top of your head and whispered nothing but supportive things into your ear as you tried to calm yourself down.

the rain happening outside and Bart's words were lulling you to sleep as Bart hadn't even realized that you were passing out on his side. it wasn't until you hadn't moved that Bart realized you were not longer awake. he grabbed your body, lifting you up bridal style before making his way to your room.

he placed you down on your bed with every intention of just letting you sleep and him heading home but you grabbed onto his body, sleepily saying that he was going to stay here. you hadn't even said it as a question but more as a statement. he didn't argue with it; however, and he had thankfully came over in his pajamas as he scooted you over a bit and crawled in.

you smiled softly, hugging him instantly and passing out once again. Bart placed a small kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your ear, "you'll be mine one day, didn't I tell you that?" he murmured before trying to fall back asleep.

#dc comics #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #bart allen x you #bart allen imagine #bart allen x reader #bart allen #impulse imagine #impulse x reader #impulse #comics #fics

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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

Hey!! I was wondering if there’s a chance you could write Angst 4 with situation 4, with Wandaxfem!reader? Thank you so much anywho, I hope you have a great day

I absolutely can and you have yourself a great day too

"Wake up, dammit!"

Warnings: injury detail, near death, thoughts of death and me once again not really understanding how the human body works

2k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Being an Avenger required a lot of skills. Practical, physical and mental. You excelled at most of it, your life and that of your teams depended on it. But you had a tendency to let personal matters get in the way.

You weren't the only one guilty of that. You were pretty sure you could name a time it had happened to everyone on the team at some point.

But you and Wanda were much more liable to let that get in the way than the others. You had both made a couple of bad decisions in the past to protect one another's safety. It was hard to control. Your first instinct would always be to protect your girlfriend, as was hers for you.

That was when things were good between you. Things being bad was a new concept, especially the way it affected a mission.

"Clear on the fourth floor C corridor." Wanda said through the comms. You jaw clenched tightly as you withheld the urge to role your eyes.

"I just confirmed that, Maximoff." You said back. Wanda didn't respond to that, not that you expected her to.

You were both working your way up a building that Hydra agents were supposed to be hiding out in. Wanda took the left side and you took the right, there were times where you met in the middle with no exchange of words.

"Thanks anyway, Wanda." Natasha said in an attempt to ease the obvious tension.

You continued to up the stairs to the next floor and tried not to think about the fight you had had the night before. It was a blur the next day, the reason it all started was unknown to you both. You had both been in a bad mood and things had soon escalated...badly. You had both said hurtful things, things you wished you could take back more than anything. The pair of you had formed a habit of giving each other space before apologising, but you had been forced together on the spontaneous mission that has thrown you both off, even more so by the fight being the worst one you two had ever had in your four years of dating. You had no idea where you stood with Wanda.

When you arrived in the center of the fifth floor you and Wanda rounded opposite corners into the main hallway at the same time. You paused when you saw her, she did too.

You were about to say something to her. Something that wasn't bitter or tense. You had the sudden urge to spill out an apology but she spoke first.

"Clear on the fifth floor corridor A." She didn't spare you a second glance, continuing through the building. You nodded to no one and hastily blinked back the tear that threatened to spill.

Focus on the mission. Focus on the mission. Well you didn't have much luck doing that.

"Going on to the next floor." You said steadily. You hadn't done a proper sweep of the floor, but nothing in the building showed any signs of people being there and you needed to put more distance between yourself and Wanda.

You should have waited for her. You knew that. She knew that. No one protested.

As soon as you were on the second floor you let your guard down and leant against a wall to take a moment to gather your thoughts. That was a mistake. A significant one.

You weren't in the right head space for that mission. That become so much more apparent when you when two bullets hit you.

Whether it was shock, panic, being distracted or a most likely combination of all three, you barely registered the first bullet. You saw who shot it though. One single Hydra agent who made a break for the exit behind you.

Just as you raised your gun to fire the second bullet hit you and sent you falling to the ground. You registered him jumping over your immobile body towards the stairs but before he could put one foot on them red swirls surrounded his body and threw him against the wall, knocking him out cold.

Wanda emerged from the hallway and skidded slightly in panic as she stopped to turn your way. Her eyes widened at the sight of the blood covering your clothes and hands. You were shaking violently while trying to put pressure on the wounds, but you didn't know where exactly they were. You couldn't feel any pain. Just numbness. And that was terrifying.

"You...no, fuck. M-medical assistance- now. Y/n's...been shot." Wanda stammered in panic as she knelt down beside you.

Natasha was giving Wanda instructions but you weren't paying attention to anything except your girlfriend.

"It's...okay." You struggled to say. Your breathing was laboured and speaking was even harder. The distinct taste of blood was in your mouth but you had to ignore that.

"I shouldn't have let you come up here alone." Wanda scolded, tears trailing down her cheeks as she found the two wounds. She ripped some fabric from her shirt into two pieces and held them against your stomach.

"I probably...would have...bitten your head...of if...you tried to." You laughed, instantly regretting it as pain shot through you. The shock was wearing off and the pain was taking its place in the most unmerciful way.

Tears fell from your eyes and your head fell back against the hard ground as you gasped, struggling for air. Wanda moved behind you and placed your head in her lap while she continued to apply pressure.

"I'm sorry." Your voice broke as you spoke. "I'm... so sorry for...last night." Wanda instantly shushed you and shook her head. Her left hand stayed on your stomach and her right combed through your hair to calm you.

"We both said bad things."

"I didn't...mean it...any of it." You tried to lock eyes with Wanda through your tears.

"Neither did I, we'll talk about this when you're better." Wanda promised, nodding her head to assure herself that you would be fine.

But just as she said that it became increasingly difficult to stay conscious. It was as though there was something in the dark calling to you, urging you to let go. It would be so easy. There would be no pain. But Wanda wouldn't be there.

You put your hand weakly over hers, wanting her to be the only thing on your mind incase it was the last. The feel of her skin against your own, her soothing voice and the accent she tried to conceal but you loved, the way she cared for you like no one else ever had. The thought that you may never experience that again made your heart drop.

The shaking was getting worse and you felt so cold.

Go to the dark. Don't go to the dark. So easy. No Wanda...Wanda.

You couldn't help it. You couldn't stop it. It washed our you like a wave. The sounds around you became distant, as though everything was far away. You couldn't make out what Wanda was saying. She sounded desperate. You couldn't see her either. Everything was blurred. Then it was all gone.

The recurring beeping from the monitor was the only sound in the room. Wanda had always thought she would find them annoying, but the Sokovian never wanted to hear it stop. Not until you didn't need it anymore. Until she didn't need it.

It had been a week since you were shot. A week since she had seen your bright y/e/c eyes. The doctors were skeptical. Wanda vaguely remembered them talking to her about your injuries, the severity of them and how they would effect you if you woke up. Once you woke up. They said it was a slim chance.

Wanda sat curled up in the chair next to your bed watching you, wondering if it felt peaceful to be in that state. She wore your favourite hoodie and had a blanket from your shared bed over her, it was the only thing that brought her comfort.

"Wake up, y/n." She whispered, as though trying to secretly communicate with you. "Please." She raised her voice slightly, thinking it could make a difference. It didn't.

"Y/n." She leant forward in her chair and took both of your hands in her own. All she had been able to think about was your fight. It had been stupid, so so stupid. You hadn't fixed it, not properly. Wanda needed more than than the brief moments on the mission. She didn't get to apologise. She couldn't let you go before she got to apologise. She had done it over and over to your sleeping form. But it didn't count. She needed you to wake up. To look at her again. To smile. To speak. To go on another date. To share another kiss. To sleep in the same bed...to get married. There was so much left to do. Wanda wasn't prepared for it to be cut short. It wasn't fair.

"Y/n please wake up. I'm so sorry." She pleaded as she gripped your hands like a lifeline. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pleaded over and over.

"Wake up, dammit!"

When your eyes finally flickered open you shut them again instantly. It was bright, far too bright. You gave a soft groan at that and tried to shield your face with your hand but found no energy to do so.

Your throat was dry and scratchy and your eyes were stinging from the exposure to the light.

You became aware of the beeping and glanced at the monitor as you tried to adjust to your surroundings, taking a for moments to remember how and why you were even in a hospital bed.

In the corner of your eye you saw movement on your left. You slowly turned your head in that direction and had your breath caught in your throat at the sight of your sleeping girlfriend. Was she still your girlfriend? Your heart dropped at the possibility that she might not be, but you hastily pushed it to the side and appreciated her company.

You had missed her. You had no idea how long you had been out. You had no memory of what it was like. All you knew was the familiar feeling of coming home deep in your chest.

Wanda's slim hand was resting on the bed next to yours and out of pure instinct you laced your fingers through her own, still unable to get over how perfectly they felt entwined together. Would she pull her hand away when she woke up? Would she shout at you more?

Fortunately you didn't have to wait long to find out. Wanda stirred from her uncomfortable looking position on the chair and blinked a few times before her eyes fell to your hands.

She furrowed her brows in confusion at the sight, not remembering putting them together but one look up told her all she needed to know.

"Y/n." She said as a sigh of relief, sitting up straight and gleaming at you.

"Wanda." You croaked with a weak but genuine smile. She picked up on that and with one flick of her tinted red wrist a small cup of water came floating towards you.

"Thank you." You said gratefully and took the cup with your free hand, wanting to hold Wanda's for as long as you could. You gulped the water down quickly and placed it on the bed side table before looking back at Wanda.

"You scared me." She admitted, concern prominent in her shimmering eyes.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head and was quick to speak.

"No, no more apologies from you. I'm sorry. For everything. I-" You cut her off by placing a finger to her lips with a smile.

"Stop."

"I really am though." You knew that, you could see it.

"I know you are." You said genuinely. "And I am too. I don't even know how it..." You trailed off as you opened and closed your mouth, not knowing what you were even trying to say. Wanda laughed and nodded, you had missed that sound so much.

"Are we...are we okay?" You asked timidly, fearing the response so much you couldn't look her in the eyes, only staring at your entwined hands.

Wanda lifted your chin with one of her fingers, wanting you to look at her as you spoke. Her warm smile greeted you like a treasured friend.

"We are. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

"Well then that's going to get confusing really quickly because I'll be doing the exact same." You declared. Wanda laughed again and brought your hands up to her lips to place a soft kiss on them. A smile spread easily across your face at the gesture.

"Come here." You muttered as you moved over to the edge of the bed and pulled the duvet back for your girlfriend.

She eagerly accepted the offer and slipped in beside you, instantly wrapping her free arm around you to bring you close while her other still held your hand.

"I love you." She whispered as she kissed your forehead.

"I love you too." You smiled and held onto her loose clothing and...how the hell did you miss that? "Is that my hoodie?"

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff imagines #angst

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years

Text

Supernova (Chapter 6)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mental health issues and episodes.

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: As the daughter of Wonder Woman, you always knew you were destined for something more than the life of a mortal. It seemed like your wish for a life of adventure came true but whether in the form of a blessing or curse, you didn’t know. All you know is that you were the sole witness for a chain of murders that would begin. It’s up to you to find out who was the murderer before it’s too late……

A/N: Oof it has been a while since the last update

Supernova Masterlist

“I told you specifically that you were not to get involved! And you deliberately disobeyed me!” Your mother scolded but her voice was getting a decibel louder each time. You looked unfazed and unbothered, not even trying to maintain eye-contact while receiving your mother’s disappointment and instead staring out the window.

It was not what you had wanted to hear at the moment if you were being honest. The past few days had been hard and you even missed training since Valerie’s death. Robin had been by your room multiple times trying to get you out of bed but you just remained there. Not living, not dying, just existing.

Your mother’s comfort might have done nothing to change the way you downward spiraled after the events and while your mother yelled at you, the same images kept replaying in your head as they did for the past few days; Robin ripping you away from her body as the police and press showed up, Valerie’s parents finding out what happened and then watching her mother break down in front of her daughter, Valerie’s little sister wailing during the funeral.

You didn’t leave the bed after that, still dressed in the black blazer and trousers you had worn that day. It had been a couple days. You had managed to swallow down Robin’s green smoothies and even a couple slices of fruit but you didn’t quite remember what it was. They all tasted bland and disgusting.

Your mother had found out about your identity through the multiple press reports and articles and while you were sorry that she had to find out that way, you didn’t have the capacity to show it. The last thing you had was the energy to fight with her, or even resist her.

So instead, you just listened to whatever she had to say, hoping that she’d leave sooner or later but the more you felt your head throb, the more frustrated you got. This was just so typical of her, of course the unstoppable, fearless, undefeatable Wonder Woman would have no idea what you were going through. And instead of asking you for your two cents, instead of comforting you, she had been trying to imprint her anxieties onto you.

Had she even thought how hard this must have been for you? For even a second? You couldn’t imagine it because if she had thought about you for even a moment, she would’ve realized that you literally saw your best friend murdered before your eyes. She would’ve realized that you were feeling like you didn’t deserve to live on the face of the earth. And she would’ve tried to comfort you.

Instead, she stormed into your room, tossing her phone with the news article on the bed before beginning her lecture and now fifteen minutes later she had yet to ask you if you were okay.

Her argument was stupid as well. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen to you; you were hardly responsible and yet no matter how hard you tried to avoid the matter, it kept pulling you back in. You couldn’t deal with this like a human, no matter how much your mother wanted you to, because you knew that you were more than that and you could have done something. It left you feeling guilty.

But at the same time, you couldn’t handle this as a god because you weren’t. You kept thinking about how you ended up coming short in each fight; had you been blessed with just a little more, had you not been part human then you wouldn’t have gotten injured the night Mary-Anne got captured and you would’ve saved her. If you weren’t limited, you would’ve been faster the day Valerie was killed, you would’ve reached her before it happened, you would’ve stopped it.

You were truly useless, but you didn’t have the excuse to be.

That made you feel absolutely worthless. Even after being blessed with so much, you still came up short. You still failed.

And who was to blame for that? The cruel fate that had you in the position you were today.

“If you weren’t my daughter—” Your mother muttered to herself in her anger, realizing that you weren’t reacting to anything she said but you caught the start of her sentence, cutting her off with a humorless and tired laugh.

“If I wasn’t your daughter,” You finally looked at her and you saw her features morph into one of worry when she finally noticed all the tears that were skating down your cheeks, “I wouldn’t be here.”

“Three people are dead, mom.” You cried, voice cracking but she stood there as if she was nailed to her place, “And I only have myself to blame. If I had been faster, stronger, if I didn’t have these human side to me, they wouldn’t be.”

“I can’t live like a god because I’m not competent enough, not gifted enough.” You sobbed, wiping away your tears and holding a hand up when she tried to approach you. You were too overwhelmed at the moment, too much input was there and it was overloading all your senses, “And I can’t live like a human because if I was this wouldn’t be happening to me.”

“If I wasn’t your daughter,” You spoke and it scared her with just how much malice you put into it, like you were disgusted with yourself for being her child and in a way, you were, how could you be Wonder Woman’s daughter and still be so weak?

“Those people wouldn’t have died when I was there to do something about it. Mary-Anne would have been gone without me knowing, my principal wouldn’t have been a casualty and I would’ve gotten Achilles’ tarot.” It was like you had given up. So many emotions were rushing through you that you couldn’t understand what was pushing you anymore, if there was anything there.

You weren’t ready just yet to give up on being a hero, not after another death. You wanted to help, you couldn’t continue to be useless and yet it felt like you were burning the candle at both ends.

“Please just go. I don’t expect Wonder Woman to understand what it’s like to be caught between paradise and hell.” You said, laying down once again and pulling the covers over your head, “Just go.”

You heard the door open and click shut before you were bathed in silence and darkness once again. For a minute it felt peaceful and you let the minutes bleed into hours without realizing just how much time passed as you were curled up in the hollow of your blankets.

You heard the door click open but didn’t bother to rear your head from your shelter until you felt someone poke you in the back. When you turned, Robin was standing with a tray in his hands and a reassuring smile on his face, “I got you something to drink.”

He didn’t ruin the silence that you had been yearning for, in fact the sound of his voice was sweet to the ears. This was what you needed.

Shifting slightly, you patted the empty spot next to you and when he settled comfortably beside you, it wasn’t suffocating or difficult like how you felt with your mother. Robin handed you the glass of fruit cocktail smoothie and you accepted, sipping the drink quietly and enjoying the chill slipping down your throat.

This wasn’t uncommon. Ever since you both started training together, you often found yourself searching for him when you needed comfort, since Robin was the one you had gotten closest to during your stay here. Now, with just an inch of distance between you, you were feeding off his energy and it was putting you at ease.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and he didn’t flinch, having been used to it by now but the first time you had even held his hand, the poor boy had jumped out his skin. You just needed the physical touch to put you in balance for a while and recharge, he realized that a while ago. Robin even felt better himself whenever you played with his fingers, specifically taking off his gloves to feel his skin or leaned against his back after a long day of training.

It felt so intimate but not romantic. He just felt needed and supportive whenever you relied on him this way, delicately threading your fingers together and sitting in the silence of your room. He didn’t even have to look at you, just feeling his presence beside you was okay.

The sound of you finished the drink through the straw filled his ears before he realized he should speak up.

“(Y/N).” He said gently and you didn’t lift your head, just humming to show that you had heard him, “They’re interrogating her murderer today.”

He would’ve thought that you were unshaken by the news had he not felt your hands tighten its grip on his. You just nodded, burying your head closer to his neck, wishing the ground would just suck you in. He didn’t say anything else, gently drumming the fingers that were set on his thigh.

***

Your hands clenched into fists as you gazed at the figure behind the one-way window. She looked too simple, too mundane to be a murderer but you knew she was the one responsible for Valerie’s death. Afterall, you had been the one to catch her red-handed.

Messy red hair was thrown into a bun, her unkempt strands and frizz making her look like she hadn’t slept in days and you were part to blame for that. Her lip was still split from where you punched her, your knuckles pricked at the sight, eager for more.

Looking at her, you couldn’t imagine how she was responsible for this, a frail looking woman who looked like she couldn’t even hurt a fly. Her name was Thelma, at least that’s what it says on her identity card. Thelma had been denying that as her name since the interrogation had begun.

Going through her file, she looked just as you had assumed; ordinary.

Batman hadn’t gotten a word out of her, she had refused to co-operate with the interrogation at all, pretending not to hear his questions, going as far as to even deny committing the crime at all. That part made you clench your jaw so tight you could’ve sworn your teeth could crack. She knew she had the advantage here.

As per the rules from the UN, you weren’t allowed to use the lasso of Hestia without her consent to assist the interrogation as it violates their right to remain silent. Watching her blatantly deny the crime that you knew she had committed had your blood boiling in your veins. If only you could wrap Hestia’s rope around her throat.

You growled as Batman tried to intimidate her but it was in vain before grabbing the lasso from your mother’s waist and stomping to the door.

“(Y/N)!” She warned, as if daring you to defy her again.

You didn’t even spare her a glance before throwing the door open and stepping inside. Batman stalked up to you quickly, leaning in with a cold fury but you didn’t back down, holding his stare. You couldn’t just stand back anymore, the feeling of knowing that you could have done something but didn’t was too much for you to take anymore.

“Give me a chance.” You murmured, “I won’t go against protocol. You have my word.”

His gaze hardened for a second before giving you a curt nod and moving to the corner of the room. He didn’t trust you not to lose your temper, not just yet and you were more than determined to prove one of the big three that you could handle yourself. Although the urge to slap the condescending look off her face was getting more tempting.

You fastened the rope to your belt before stepping in front of the table, resting your hands against it in a self-satisfying way that you saw in movie before finally looking Valerie’s murderer in the eye. Haggard green eyes behind thick lenses and wrinkles running deep into her pale skin. She looked pathetic. That made you feel both frustrated and proud.

“Your name is Paris,” You bit out with such venom, making sure to keep your voice loud enough for the members behind the glass to hear you clearly, “Isn’t it?”

She smirked and her eyes flashed with some pride that had you resisting the urge to throw her across the room. It would be so easy to snap her neck right then and there, to make her pay for what she did to your dear friend but you controlled yourself.

“Finally, someone with a brain.”

You mirrored her smirk, feeling your spine straightened with a little confidence, your hunch had been right, “How couldn’t I have known The Great Paris? The brave soldier who slayed Mighty Achilles.” You purred, taking your eyes off her and glancing at the glass. You were keeping your tone even, your gaze steady to show your mother but you were comforted knowing that Robin was behind it.

“The brave, skilled, mighty Trojan Prince Paris. Made a name for himself by being the best of his kind. Only a mortal but still managed to take down a divine god.” You droned, noticing how she began beaming at your words. You turned back to her and even though it was just a moment, they had seen something change in your eye. Your glare turned dark and you smirked.

“Only we both know one thing; your name isn’t Paris.” Her smile vanished and you took a step closer, sitting right across her to look her in the eye. “Tell me if this sounds familiar, hmm? A lonely, old woman living all alone. She’s at a dead-end job. She has no family, no friends, no light in her life.”

The way you spoke had your mother on edge. Every single word that came out of your mouth was like hitting a nail on the head. It was unlike anyone had ever seen before.

Robin clutched his cape nervously in his hands as he watched you interrogate Thelma with something settling in the pit of his stomach. He had seen that look before, the very same dark glare on his father and now it scared him that it was almost identical on you. He couldn’t let you turn out as his dad, he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

“And then finally she gets something in her life. A chance at hope. A chance at purpose. Something to finally make her believe that her life is worth living. Sound familiar? I bet it does, Thelma.” You hissed, “Because that pathetic woman was you, wasn’t it? You thought that if you killed Achilles you’d be rewarded, worshipped even. And finally, your miserable little life would have some meaning. Didn’t you?”

The look of fear in her eyes fed your hunger for a while. She was shaking her head feebly, looking at the ground since she couldn’t hold your gaze and you could only get angrier. Where was the pride and arrogance that she was showing earlier? Where was the crazed look in her eye as she murdered your best friend in cold blood?

“Only you were stupid,” You spat, “You were careless and you got caught. And suddenly, you weren’t the Mighty Paris that defeated Achilles. No, you were pathetic, irrelevant little Thelma who killed an underaged, unprotected girl in the locker room of her high school. I saw it all. You’re despicable.”

Robin watched your eyes swirl with a darkness he had never seen before. You were always trying to fight against your demons that were pulling you into the deepest recesses of your mind but now it was like you had finally surrendered to it. It was scary to watch such a pure person slowly get corrupted and Robin felt his resolve harden a little. He wouldn’t let you end up like the Dark Knight.

He had known Wonder Woman for most of his life and it was always your mother’s unconditional love and hope for the human race that made her what she stood as today. You always wanted to be like your mother, in body and mind. Now it felt like you were throwing away all those principles. Now it was to protect your own, and no one else.

If there was anything he could do to prevent you from going down that path he would, he realized when he saw the manic look in your eye. You were so close to being lost. Robin spared a glance at your mother, seeing her stand steady and tall. You were teetering over the edge at the moment and if your mother pushed just a little in the wrong way, you could possibly be lost to the rest of them. He wouldn’t let it come to that.

The darkness storming in your eyes suddenly ceased. Your features went slack in a terrifying way as you leaned towards the shivering woman in front of you as your fingers went white around the edges of the table.

“You took something very precious from me,” It was like poison was dripping from your tongue and you kept your voice low enough so only the both of you would know what you were saying, “Watch how easily I can do the same to you.”

Suddenly you pulled back and turned towards Batman with a small, disarming smile, “She’s free to go, Batman. She isn’t the one who killed Valerie. She’s just an ordinary, insignificant civilian.”

It was like a thread snapped.

“I DID IT! I KILLED HER! IT WAS ME!” Thelma shrieked lunatically, kicking the table and banging her hand-cuffed hands against the tabletop. She began sobbing loudly, screaming about how she was the one who killed Valerie and your heart lightened with satisfaction just a little. Just what you wanted.

“It’s my word against yours, Thelma. I witnessed the murder. I just think you’re just confused.” You replied, seemingly unfazed by her episode. The way she was crying in poor agony would usually have you off-put, concerned even. But right now, all you felt was your eardrums sting. She deserved none of your remorse.

“NO! NO, I DID IT! I DID IT!”

The smirk on your face was unmistakable, “Oh really? Will your confession hold up against the Lasso of Truth? Do you think it can?”

Her crying died down until she was softly sobbing into her hands, knowing that she had no other way out. She had lost, “Yes. I did it.”

You loosened the lasso around your waist, letting one end fall to the ground before wrapping it once around your wrist for better leverage, “Then let the interrogation begin.”

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lustbile · 3 years

Text

To Provoke

Incubus!HaechanxReader

Word Count: 4.4K

Warning: dom-ish haechan, semi public (alley way), oral&fingering, biting, blood consumption, & can maybe be interpreted as degrading but not really

notes: a resounding thank you to whoever gave haechan curls and horns im in love with you nct stylist person. I wrote this all today and it made me stupid so I will try to go through and do more editing. Also not that I think anyone would, but I made the edit for this, horns and all, and im asking politely no one repost it, i know it’s not the most extravagant edit but im asking u pls.

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You were trying to provoke him.

You were always trying to provoke him.

Everything you did, every move, blink, sigh, and turn was an attempt to pull him from the shadows.

To admit you’re addicted to him is embarrassing, degrading even, especially with the way it fills his chest and wild eyes with hunger and pride. His ego was one thing that never needed to grow, big enough to fill every nook and cranny of the universe, but something about the way your pretty eyes would glitter at him in awe pushed it over the edge in free fall.

The outfit you chose to wear was maybe a bit too revealing for the weather, the nipping cold dancing along your shoulders and thighs in a way that makes your stomach clench and your teeth chatter. But it was the same outfit you had worn on the night you had met him, the outfit that his greedy fingers tugged and pulled on to get access to your skin, and it still had the smallest of tears in the seem from his impatience that night.

But it got you attention, and that's what mattered in the end.

He had always had a jealous streak, something he’d deny sharply if you had the nerve to accuse him, but that didn’t change the fact that some of your best nights with him were spent after he showed up to remind you that your body and skin were for him only. And that jealousy was the exact thing you needed to get him to show his face again.

It had been far too long since you had felt him last. You had no clue where he could have possibly ran off to for such a long time, but that didn’t stop the fire that was building in your belly. And no matter how many times you tried, your own wandering hands were never enough to quench your body’s thirst like he could.

The man you spoke to at the club meant less than nothing to you, even when you felt his growing excitement pressing against your back when you agreed to dance with him. The sloppy kisses you allowed him to press against the skin of your neck felt no different than just air as your mind was too distracted by the man that had taken ownership of your heart and soul so long ago, regardless of his absence.

It didn’t feel long before the lights became too bright, the alcohol that sloshed in your cup too bitter for your tongue, and the smell of the strange man too stale and unfamiliar. But when you pushed away from his chest and checked the time on your phone, while you ignored his grumbled complaints of you being a tease, you saw that it was only a handful of minutes past midnight.

You had stayed out much longer than that before, much later in fact and with glee, but something in your chest, a heavy and daunting weight, was pulling you towards the entrance on unsteady feet and a taunting disappointment on your shoulders.

Your mind still felt muggy even after you broke away from the stuffy environment of the building, but you brushed it off as a combination of the minimal alcohol you’d consumed and the angry unsatisfied monster that had made home in your gut.

You had enough of a head on your shoulders to scan your purse for your pepper spray and pocket knife before you decided that maybe the short walk home would help clear your mind and disappointment. It was still cold, your icy fingertips begging for a uber or cab instead, but you were hoping the biting chill would help calm down whatever lustful beast you had become because of a man you couldn't even contact.

Your legs felt too heavy to carry with every step you took, your neck feeling like your necklaces were made from tons of lead instead of whatever cheap metal the random online store you had ordered them from used. You were grateful that the only company you had on the back streets you had chosen to take were the flickering street lamps and the skittering rats you could hear in each alley you passed.

You could almost taste the relief of the cheap bottles of wine you had stashed in your kitchen paired with a trashy netflix horror film when you turned onto your street, your apartment building somehow looking inviting with its old brick and foggy windows as it sat on the corner. The only thing stopping you from kicking off your heels and making a run for it being the memory of one of your less than polite neighbors dropping a large glass vase and not feeling any need to pick up the broken pieces before leaving for the day.

Instead you grit your teeth to help bear the pinching of your shoes, and break into a quick and awkward jog down the desolate stretch of sidewalk. Your eyes watering as you're met with icy air.

Peace and warmth and cheap familiar alcohol is only a few strides away when you hear it. To anyone else in the city it would have been no different than the sounds of an everyday creature scavenging in the trash for food, but you had lived here long enough to know what's a rat or raccoon or, in this case, a cat.

It was a stray you had befriended long ago, one that could climb and duck into your conveniently opened balcony door for a bowl of food and a scratch behind the ears. It was just a sweet little boy that was grey and covered with scratches and scars, but due to a no pet policy had to be kept labeled as a stray and a secret to your landlord.

You huff in frustration, assuming he would have been curled up on your couch when you returned home and not chasing rats in the alley next to your building, but he had always been mischievous from the day you met him. So with the hope that you could block his image from the security cameras, you turn and head into the dim light of the small alley.

You had lovingly dubbed him Oscar when you came home more than once to your trash can tipped over and learned he had a special love for garbage, and that name along with some weird chattering cooing left you mouth as you tried to coax him from whatever trash can he was creating chaos within.

Your teeth were already gritted and you back stiff as the playful feline found enjoyment in jumping out and scaring you in times like this and you assumed this time would be no different as his evilness seemed to only raise as it got deeper and deeper into the night. So you were already mentally prepared for an attack from an overly excited ball of fur, what you weren’t prepared for was a voice.

“What are you doing out so late?” the voice was gruff and slightly accusatory and made you all but jump completely out of your skin. And as you whip around in circles to try to find the face that the words feel from, you see your love and joy Oscar jump from the tallest trash can and scale the fire escape up to scramble back into your home like a guilty teenager that was caught by their mother.

“I asked you a question,” this time the words were followed by strong hands gripping your shoulders and a shrill yelp escaping your throat.

Your hand was pushing into your purse for at least one of your weapons as you squat to get out of the person's hold and turn to see their face, the grinning and prideful boy behind you washes you with a wave of relief before stabbing at you with annoyance.

“Haechan, what the fuck,” you whisper harshly as you pull your hand from your purse and stand up straight, your now free hand now moving to jab a rough finger into the dip of his chest, “how many times? How many times have I told you to not fucking sneak up on me like that. I know the pepper spray can’t hurt you and a stab wound would heal in like five minutes but that doesn’t mean I want to stab you, idiot.”

“Why not?” his head jerks back as if you said something dumb like the sky wasn’t actually blue or he wasn’t really the sexiest man to live, something that just has no logic behind it in the slightest, “like you said it would heal so maybe we could try, might be kinda hot.”

He punctuates his words by grabbing you roughly by the waist, his other hand wrapping gently around your neck before he pushes you against the rough brick behind you, the permanent evil glimmer in his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Do you ever get tired of being an absolute freak?” you thinly veiled insult doesn’t pack as much of a punch as you had maybe hoped, but when he begins to mouth at the skin of your jaw and cheek you can’t really find it within yourself to care.

“Well isn’t that why you like me?” he asks rhetorically as he starts to nip light bruises in the spots that blur your vision, “freaky me must be your favorite, because otherwise you wouldn’t be dressed the way you are.”

He’s no wrong, not even in the slightest, but the confident way in which he says it is enough to make you want to lie, “wanting you and liking you are two different things, no one ever said I liked you.”

“Oh but you want me,” the way in which he takes everything you say in strides without even batting an eye is bit infuriating, but the way his fingers tighten against your neck and push into your jugular is enough to make you melt against him, “that’s what you said so for once that’s not me putting words into your pretty little mouth. But don’t say you don’t like me, that’s a dirty lie and we both know it.”

“You don’t like when I lie?” you pout at him, trying to pull more and more reactions from him, “but some of your favorite things I say are lies, like how big you are and how well you fuc-“

“Alright that’s enough of you,” he interrupts, his fist tightening that much more and his other slipping from your waist to reach under the hem of your dress, a satisfied growl and his tongue pressing into the inside of his cheek being his reaction when he realizes the underwear he was grabbing for wasn’t there, “I’ve had to watch you prance around all night, letting a low down dog of a man touch you. And for what? My attention? Baby, you already have my attention.”

Your words stutter violently, the only sounds coming from your throat are whines and gasps as his fingers slip between your thighs and glide against the dampened skin, never staying on your clit long enough to give you the pleasure you need but enough to make you squirm.

“You were watching me?” you finally gasp out, before it clicks in your brain how dumb of a question it was. He told you a long time ago that he always will keep an eye on you, and knowing what he is and the things he can do, you had no reason to not believe him.

“I always am my pretty baby,” he coos before pressing teasing kisses to your open mouth, seemingly tasting and feeding off of every little noise that slips out, “and it hurts to see you let such a nasty man touch you where only I should. You didn’t even notice him following you out of that trashy club did you, silly thing?”

You jerk back as much as you can with the way he holds you, eyes widening at the news that you were apparently being followed without your knowledge. Every emotion that swims in your brain feels like its fighting for dominance, but with the way he chooses to dip his middle and ring fingers just barely past your entrance you’re struggling to cling to just one.

“God, you are so lucky to have me aren’t you? Who else would take care of creeps and make you feel good hm?” he tilts his head as he speaks, his breath warm against the side of your face before his tongue dips to lick at the shell of your ear, “no one can make you feel the way I do can they?”

“No,” you finally answer after a moment, the word coming out as an airy breath as his fingers finally sink in all the way. He wastes no time before curling them and pressing at the spot that makes your knees buckle, “please Haechan, need you so bad.”

“Oh is that one of those infamous lies of yours you were talking about?” he pulls away slightly, but shows no interest in slowing the motions of his hand, “well it can’t be can it? I can always tell you know? Can hear the way your heart picks up when you lie, much different than the way it does when you’re about to come for me.”

His wrist starts to move faster, the heel of his hand finally pressing and rubbing against your clit as the muscles of his forearm start to strain. The telling signs of your orgasm feel too sudden, too fast, and with his hand still constricting the blood that tries to flow to your head all you can do is let your eyes roll as your breathing comes out as small puffs.

“But since you’ve asked so nicely,” you can only let out a pathetic cry when he pulls his hand away from you suddenly, your lack of oxygen being the only thing stopping you from letting out a scream loud enough for the whole block to hear as he denies you of any stimulation. All you can do is let out incoherent babbling and whines as your hands reach up to dig your nails into the leather jacket protecting his forearms.

He releases your neck, your skin burning from the friction and the sudden amount of oxygen and blood returning to your head making you dizzy. And while your eyes roll as they try to refocus and your heart rate begins to slow to normal, he grabs your wrists and pushes your weakened form to be flush against the wall thats scrapes against your exposed skin.

“You are by far the best thing ive ever tasted,” he mutters, not concerned with whether you heard him or not, before his mouth latches to the side of your neck. He seems to find the most interest in the finger prints he left behind, as he pulls the tender skin between his sharp teeth and works to create a bruise that won’t leave you for another week.

Regardless of denying you a proper release, he considers himself to still be a generous guy. As his tongue lays flat against the burning skin of your neck, he starts to kick at your feet until your clumsy legs are falling apart wide enough for him to press his thigh against your skin, and in the exact way he predicted, you can’t help but to begin grinding helplessly against him.

One of the main reasons the dress that you currently wear is one of his favorites, is the neckline. Low enough to show the expanse of your chest and just enough of your cleavage to make him salivate. He’s as transparent as glass with this love, especially as he mouth travels down between your collarbones and sternum.

You can hear a quiet pop in the fabric of the neckline when he bites down and begins to pull it with him as he sinks down to the floor, the huff you let out being both in frustration from him further ruining a nice dress and your impatience.

The straps dig harshly into the skin of your shoulders before they give and fall, the sudden lack of support making it easier for Haechan to take the fabric and expose your chest to the cold air.

The look in his eyes when you look down is mean and predatory, you fear one day he’ll snap and consume you whole, but for today he settles for wrapping his swollen lips around your nipple and sucking harshly.

Your hips quicken involuntary, broken moans filling the empty alley as you twitch and squirm in his hold. He seems to grow irritated at your impatience as he shoves your wrists back harshly, his knuckles audibly scraping against the brick.

“You can never be patient to save your life,” his head tilts forward and he presses his forehead against your sternum with a huff before he’s leaning back up to press a sloppy kiss against your panting mouth, “you’re lucky I missed you so much or otherwise you’d be in for a lot longer of a night.”

He keeps your wrists trapped in his hold as he moves to kneel on the ground, the rough and dirtied pavement doing nothing to help the tears that already litter his jeans.

You feel your face flush when he lets go of one wrist and uses his newly freed hand to shove the hem of your dress up and around your hips, and the burning beneath your skin only worsens when he leans forward and breathes deeply with his nose pressed against your pubic bone.

He leans back for a moment, his hand wrapping around the bend of your knee to pull your leg to rest on his shoulder and you feel your shoulder sting from the wall cutting into your skin from him moving you like a doll.

“Haechan,” you whisper his name out with a pout that you hope will get you exactly what you want, but you can only huff and petulantly twitch when he begins nipping and licking at the skin on the insides of your thighs.

His teeth are sharper than most, and he usually airs on the side of caution because he’s aware of this. His bites are gentle for the most part, but when you begin to peak in your feelings of impatience, you can’t help the way your hips begin jerking forwards in search of his tongue.

His palm pushing against your hip is his first warning, a generous one in his opinion, but when the warning seems to fly completely over your pretty little head he has no other choice but to lean forward and sink his teeth into delicate skin at the bend of your thigh.

You cry out for a second before you’re tucking your lip between your teeth. It stings terribly, the skin breaking around his teeth burns but you can’t stop the way you revel in the sharp pain. And at the exact same moment you taste the metallic ting of the blood falling from your bitten lip, you feel the same warm thick liquid drip from the wounds he’s created and straight into his grinning mouth.

More blood falls freely when he pulls his teeth from your flesh, his warm tongue flattening against the injury immediately to catch as much of the liquid as possible.

He laps at it for a moment, savoring as much of the taste of your life source as possible, before he starts at the bottom of the bite mark and drags slowly up.

Once his tongue moves off the wound, he continues across your skin. The moment he hits your labia, you let out a gasp and jerk against him again, your mind completely erasing the fact that the bite was meant to be a punishment for that exact thing.

He seems to have forgotten him wanting you to remain still, as he doesn’t hesitate in the slightest until his licking across your stil swollen bundle of nerves.

He moans as the flavor of your arousal mixes with the still lingering taste of your blood, the vibrations shooting straight up your spine and making you shiver.

He tilts his head up to smile at you, his eyes shining as he grabs your hands and moving them to thread into his curled hair.

“Why are you shivering?” he asks with a faux concern, his right hand smoothing over your thigh before pushing between your legs to return his fingers to their spot inside of you, immediately pumping and curling them slowly, “are you cold or something? Maybe it’s because you’re in such a skimpy little dress?”

You groan out in annoyance at his playful act, your eyes rolling back but for once not in pleasure. It’s not until he starts to proudly giggle to himself do you exploit the hold you have on the back of his head to push him back to your body.

You fear that being shoved around may be the exact thing Haechan would have wanted, when he happily moans before latching his lips to your clit again, but the pleasure that melts your muscles erases any need to call him out on his deviousness and perverted enjoyment.

He seems happy with your moving hips when they start to move against his waiting face. Your fingers mindlessly and desperately tug at his scalp as your head tilts back and thumps against the wall.

The hand that isn’t pressed deeply inside you slides across your hip, his callused fingers making goosebumps run up your arms as they push into your lower belly.

You can feel yourself fluttering around his fingers as the curl and push apart, your thighs tensing around his bobbing head as he licks and bites gently at your clit. It feels like it’s harder to catch your breath and you know you’re only moments from orgasm.

“Please, please,” you start to stutter the word over and over, praying both that he lets you come and that you’re neighbors are deep enough in sleep to not hear the noises you know will escape you.

You almost cry in relief when you feel his shoulders shift, his face and fingers both pressing deeper from the movement in a way that tells you he has no intention on letting up on your shivering body.

His blunt nails start to scratch into your skin and you can feel his heavy panting breath against your skin every time he begins to lap at you desperately. You can feel your muscles lose even more strength, and your head becoming heavier and dazed as he coaxed you closer and closer to your finish.

Your shoulders twitch up towards your ears and you feel your stomach clench as your back curves, small whines and whimpers leave you as the heel of your foot thumps against the space between his shoulder blades.

You gasp out when you feel it, them. They start as small bumps beneath your palms, and you feel your chest tighten when it clicks what they are.

He’s always had a good hold on controlling them, keeping them hidden so he can wreak havoc without being clocked as something inhuman. They had peaked out a few times, usually in moments like this, but it’s such a rarity that you can’t stop the way your heart begins to thump in your chest.

Out of everything about him, you were obsessed with all of him, but you loved his horns the most. They were small and sharp at the side of his head and the way he looks when they’re poking out amongst his curled hair, and especially when he was grumpy or mad, made you want to jump on him and kiss him all over.

You were so caught up and distracted by them growing to full size directly under your hands you forgot how sharp they were at their tapered ends. The reminder you get is when they sharply down push into your palms like thorns.

You gasp sharply, but the way they curl makes you afraid to pull away. It makes you tremble and flush with embarrassment, but the pain bleeding into your hands is the last straw on your nerves. All you can do is wrap your now bleeding hands around the horns and cry out into the cold air as your erratic hips move across his face.

He groans deeply against you as your nails scrape at the skin that surrounds the base of his horns, the feeling of his and his still moving tongue pushes you through and past your gasping orgasm.

You sign in relief when he finally detaches from your body, his mouth moving up to press your hip and across the space of your stomach the dress reveals. He puts your leg down slowly and he creeps back up your torso, now hyper aware of your wounded hands still stuck on his horns.

“Sorry my love, they’re kinda sharp aren’t they?” he rhetorically asks with a soft but guilty grin. He stays ducked down enough that your hands don’t go too high that they start to slip, and he follows with his own to help you detach them.

“I just keep making my mark on you tonight huh?” he sighs as he stands at full height and brings your still bleeding hands to his face. You grit your teeth and scrunch your nose when he gives you a knowing look that says ‘we both know what I have to do.’

He is quick and gentle when he swipes his tongue across the deep cuts in your hands, not wanting it to sting more than necessary.

A teasing grin fills his face when he looks up to see the tired pout on your face, “just like the one on your leg, there won’t be anything left than a bruise if you just wait like an hour,” he’s sincere in his words, and you know it works, but you still feel all wounded and tired.

“Take me home,” you demand, wrapping your slowly healing hands around his shoulders and leaning until your head rests against his shoulder.

“Hey now,” he contradicts his tone by wrapping his arm around your waist and helping guide you walk to your apartment, “you still have to feed Oscar, and take a shower, and I’m not even full yet so you have to let me play with you until I wear you out.”

His tone is far too genuine and loving for the words he says, and you swat weakly at his chest in annoyance, but all he does in response is a laugh.

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct imagine #nct oneshot #haechan oneshot #haechan imagine #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #nct fic #nct fanfic

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Unexpected - Part 3

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: The final chapter. This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Ever since his hasty departure from your study, Caspian had not exactly avoided you but had taken to just popping his head round the door and wishing you a cheerful good day before disappearing again. You had smiled to yourself. It certainly did seem that you had some kind of an effect on the King. You weren’t absolutely sure what that was, but it appeared to be a positive one.

You were excitedly planning an outfit for that evening as a banquet was being held to celebrate Cornelius’ birthday. No-one had mentioned how old he actually was and you weren’t sure if that was because they didn’t know or if they were just being tactful. You’d bought him three new quills as his gift, which he’d accepted gratefully as he was always snapping the tips off his.

Later that afternoon, there was a brief knock and Caspian’s smiling face appeared round your door. “You are coming to the birthday banquet tonight, aren’t you, my lady?” You nodded, “I am, Caspian.” “Well… I’ll see you there,” he grinned, and then he was gone.

Smiling, you went back to mentally reviewing the dresses in your wardrobe. Tonight you’d make sure you looked your very best for Caspian.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Meanwhile Caspian walked off down the corridor, deep in thought. He was sure that she’d noticed that he was keeping a physical distance between them the past few days, but it was the only way he could think of to avoid making a complete fool of himself. Again. Like he had the last time. His face burned every time he thought about it. She’d known why he’d rushed off, he was sure of it.

He would have to dance with her tonight. It would look strange if he didn’t, and he felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. How on earth was he going to keep himself under control? He would just have to figure out a way… somehow.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Eventually, after several changes, you’d chosen a deep ruby red velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline, your hair was artfully pinned up and you had added a sparkling necklace and earrings.

The music played, the tables were laden with food and drink and Cornelius was thoroughly enjoying himself as the centre of attention. The courtiers whirled around the room in spirited waltzes and you watched as Caspian danced with girl after girl after girl. Everyone apart from you, in fact. You had a sick sinking feeling in your stomach - it looked like you’d got it all wrong, he obviously didn’t have any feelings for you at all. You blinked fiercely as you felt your eyes fill up. Well, your mother always said pride comes before a fall, and you supposed that you’d been prideful in thinking that he felt something special for you.

Taking a large drink of your wine, you considered leaving the banquet. What use was there in staying? Just to watch Caspian dancing with all the other women, while you - a sorrowful heap of jealousy - sat in the corner by yourself? No, that was not going to be you, you thought.

Standing, you smoothed your dress and started to move out from behind the table, only for Cornelius to lightly grip your wrist. “You’re surely not going already?” he questioned you. You nodded, “Yes, my lord. I.. I have a headache and should retire to my chamber, I think.” He did not let go of you, “Oh, my lady, can’t I persuade you to stay just a little longer? It is my birthday after all!” he smiled mischievously at you. Oh, he had to make you feel guilty, didn’t he? You sighed, “Very well, my lord, just for a very short time though.” He refilled your wine cup, “Have some more wine,” he encouraged you, “I’ve heard it’s very efficacious in treating headaches!”

Laughing, you sat down and took the goblet from him. “Indeed? I confess I haven’t heard that said of wine, my lord.” Nodding vigorously, he replied, “Oh, yes - I am sure I read that recently somewhere - in a medical book or suchlike.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching you, one of the Kingsguard. Before you turned to look fully at him, you saw a look of annoyance flit over Cornelius’ face, before his usual small smile returned.

“May I have the pleasure of the next dance, my lady?” asked the handsome soldier, whose name you didn’t know. You nodded and stood, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. The orchestra finished playing the previous waltz, and prepared to play the next one.

Caspian’s dark eyes met yours as he straightened up from bowing to his partner. Something flashed in them and you looked away, up at your own partner. Wasn’t he happy to see you dancing with someone? Well, that was a shame, you thought - he can just have a taste of his own medicine! The music began and you and the soldier began to dance, thankfully neither of you treading on each other’s toes. You saw that Caspian was dancing with yet another lady. Hmmm, not so bothered then, you thought somewhat bitterly.

Throughout the dance, however, any time you looked towards Caspian his eyes were on you. Continuing to look away, you’d wait a few moments and look again. Yes - still looking. Now you were confused, if he didn’t care, why was he staring? Maybe it was just a ‘big brother’ kind of thing. The dance came to an end and you and your partner bowed to each other, and as you stood straight again you realised with a start that Caspian was standing slightly to the right of your soldier, gazing at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s heart had jolted in his chest when he saw her take the floor with one of his Kingsguard. Jealousy raged through his veins. She was only supposed to dance with him! He continued staring over at them as the dance progressed, barely looking at his own new partner, and as soon as the dance finished he quickly bowed, mumbled a thank you and hurried over to her and the soldier.

The soldier bowed his head to his King and took himself off at speed. Caspian was still looking at her, and eventually she cleared her throat and said, “Good evening, your Majesty,” bowed her head slightly and also started to leave the dance floor. “No!” he exclaimed, and her eyes met his again, a confused look in them. “I mean… don’t go, I was about to ask you to dance.” She gave him a small smile, “And are you asking me, your Majesty?” Now it was his turn to look confused, “Why, yes… I am,” he replied and extended his hand towards her.

Taking it, she followed him to a more central area of the dance floor and as they reached it he swung around, pulling her close against him and drinking in her scent. He heard her give a small gasp and realised what he’d done - the waltz the orchestra was playing required a side by side promenade at arms’ length for a few steps before traditional waltzing then took over. Hastily, he released her and they performed their promenade steps, before he was able to take her into his arms once more.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he breathed next to her ear, “I was overwhelmed when I saw you arrive.” She laughed, not meeting his eyes, “Really, your Majesty? I didn’t think you were even aware I was here.” “What?” he said, totally confused, “Of course I knew you were here!” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes as they moved around the dance floor. “Well, it’s just that you were so busy with all your dance partners I didn’t think that you were, your Majesty.”

Caspian felt like a thunderbolt had hit him. Of course! What a damn fool he was. He’d been so busy trying to distract himself from mooning over her, that it hadn’t dawned on him what it might look like to her - that he was totally ignoring her. He’d noticed that she’d gone back to calling him ‘your Majesty’. He desperately thought of how he could explain this without giving himself away. “Oh… no, no… I’m, I’m always aware of… of where you are,” he said then winced as he realised how lame that sounded. “I thought I would save the last dance for you,” he added, hoping this would redeem him somewhat.

She finally looked at him, a slightly reproachful look in her eyes but she didn’t speak. “I’m so sorry if it looked like I was ignoring you,” he said in a rush, “I just didn’t want to seem too eager.” She laughed but he could tell there wasn’t a lot of humour in it, “Don’t worry, your Majesty, that definitely wasn’t the impression you gave.”

Caspian was panicking. How could he be so stupid? Now she was upset with him, and he only wanted her more than ever - she looked stunning in her ruby red gown. He held her even closer to him and decided to stop talking, maybe he could just show her how he felt by holding her close. He saw her eyes widen and realised that had been a mistake too. There was no doubt that she’d felt his rampant erection, even through the heavy fabric of her dress.

He made a sudden decision and danced her rapidly across the floor back to the table, hastily sitting down and tugging her into the seat next to him. He pulled his tunic down as far as he could over the bulge in his lap and leant forward slightly, embarrassed and running his hands over his face. “Are you alright, my King?” she questioned him. He looked sidelong at her, “I think you know exactly what’s wrong with me.” Then in an even quieter voice, “The same as in the orchard that time.”

He saw a blush start to rise over her face. So she did remember it.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Oh! you thought, your mind racing back to that encounter in the gathering dusk. You had thought about it frequently over the years with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. You knew you’d been quite forward in your curiosity, and often wondered if Caspian ever thought about it too. And now it seemed that he had. With a frisson of jealousy, you’d also wondered what other sexual experiences he’d had since.

“I… we said we’d never talk about that, Caspian.” While dancing and when he’d pulled you closer to him, you’d felt that hard length of his against your stomach and knew exactly what it meant. But now here he was, bringing up the subject himself.

“We said we’d never speak of it to other people,” he corrected you, gazing into your eyes, “but maybe we need to discuss it further between ourselves. Come, let us leave the banquet for a while so we can speak in private.” He stood up and held out his hand so you also stood, taking it and following him as he led you out of the banqueting hall, aware of the many envious glances from the other women as you left with the King.

They could think what they liked, you thought. They will know you were childhood friends, although you’d made a point of never telling that to any of them. Castle gossip will have ensured that they all knew about it in any case.

Caspian led you upstairs to one of the empty salons and outside onto the large balconied terrace which was attached to it. He knew his castle well, you thought. Due to its position in one of the towers it wasn’t overlooked by any other window or balcony, and the size of the large terrace prevented anyone from seeing anything if they looked up from the grounds.

He came to a halt and turned towards you, his eyes blazing with something - you weren’t sure what - as he looked into yours, “I…I want,” he faltered, “I need…!”

You opened your mouth to ask him what he wanted and needed but before you could speak, he pushed you up against the terrace wall, you felt his mouth on yours and he was kissing you passionately. You realised he was also raising your dress and felt the fabric creep past your knee and then halfway up your leg.

Looking down you saw that Caspian had unlaced his breeches, just as you felt his fingers brush past your undergarments. Because unlike last time, it was he who had hold of his manhood and before you fully realised what he was doing, he’d slid his erection inside you and continued to push until he was fully sheathed. You were gasping and his dark brown eyes looked more like deepest black as he stared into yours, before he lowered his head onto your shoulder, groaning and whispering your name.

“Caspian!” you eventually managed to breathe, “what are you doing?!”

“What you wanted me to do that night in the orchard,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian gripped her hips through the dress fabric and began to thrust up into her. She’d wanted him to do this to her those few years ago, right? She’d told him he was a coward because he’d pulled out. So now he was only taking what he could’ve had under the pear trees that evening, wasn’t he?

He heard her voice, through her gasps, “We were children, Caspian, who didn’t know any better. Now we do. What if you get me pregnant?” Caspian stopped thrusting, she needed to hear the truth.

“I don’t care! I’ve wanted you every second of every day since!” his voice broke, “Don’t you realise I’ve always been in love with you?!” He leaned his head back slightly and looked into her eyes, “Tell me you don’t want me to do this and I’ll stop.” She hesitated and he immediately began thrusting again, kissing her and pulling her closer to him. Eventually he felt her fists pummelling his chest, “Caspian! Please! I can’t get pregnant.”

He stopped with a heavy sigh, resting his forehead on hers for a moment before straightening up and pulling out of her. Taking his dick in his hand he turned away from her, frantically rubbing and squeezing his length before finishing quickly, bending over slightly and catching his seed in the palm of his other hand.

Turning back towards her, he found he was looking at empty space. She was gone.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You ran as fast as your fancy dancing shoes would let you to your chamber. Throwing yourself headlong onto your bed and beginning to sob, you wondered how on earth you’d got yourself into this stupid situation. Because you teased him! your brain yelled back at you, it’s all your fault and you know it! Caspian is such a polite, shy, well-behaved boy and look what you made him do!

Eventually your tears stopped flowing and you wearily got up from the bed, struggling a little to unlace your dress at the back but eventually managing it. You’d had to learn how to do that as you didn’t have a lady’s maid, unlike at home. Having washed your face, taken down your hair and changed into your nightdress, you had just lain back down in bed and pulled the quilt over your head when you heard a single knock at your door.

You knew it was Caspian, that one knock had been a special signal between the two of you since you were children. Knowing in your heart that you shouldn’t answer it, you nevertheless got up and opened the door.

It looked as if Caspian had also been crying, his dark eyes were as wide as saucers. “I need to explain.”

You nodded and stood back, allowing him to come into your chamber.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He locked the door behind him, he didn’t want any interruptions during the discussion he was about to have. She’d walked back to her bed and sat on the edge of it, looking down into her lap. He followed her over there, also perching on the bed next to her.

He drew in a deep breath then said in a low voice, “I’m truly sorry for what I did earlier.” He looked down, “You looked so beautiful but you danced with him, you were in his arms and I was so very jealous! I wanted you so much. But what I did was unforgivable.” He heard her exhale then she said, “I have to say, it’s not how I imagined losing my virginity, Caspian.” His head flew up, “But that… we… didn’t that happen when we…?” She shook her head, blushing, “No, not properly. You didn’t get far enough inside that time,” and looked up at him, “but you did this time.”

Now he felt himself blushing. “Oh! I always thought I lost my virginity to you that evening,” he said, “And you? That means you haven’t been with anyone else?” He held his breath and then she shook her head, her eyes downcast again. He felt an immense sense of relief, blowing out a big breath of air. There was a short silence and then he heard, “Caspian?” He looked over at her, “Yes?” “How many women have you been with since then?”

He leapt up off the bed, drawing himself up to his full height, “None!” he shouted, then as he saw her jump, lowered his voice, “I have been with no woman except you.” Suddenly he knelt in front of her, and he met her intent gaze, “I’ve never wanted anyone else apart from you.” He noticed her eyes welling up, and a few tears slid down her cheeks. He reached up and gently wiped them away, “Why are you crying, my darling?” he asked, “Doesn’t that please you?” She managed a feeble smile, “I’m crying because I am pleased to hear that, yes.”

Caspian’s brain hurt a little as he heard this; he wondered if he’d ever understand women. He decided the wisest course of action would be to remain silent and just smiled back at her, nodding as if he fully understood. She sniffled a little and then said more boldly, “Caspian, when you were… you know… earlier, you said you’d always been in love with me.”

His mind rapidly rewound to when he’d been trying to make love to her, had he said that?! He really didn’t recall - his mind had been on other things! - but as it was the truth in any case, he nodded. He took hold of her hand, “Yes, it’s the truth. I’ve loved you since I met you.” “But we were just children.” “It doesn’t matter. You’re my soulmate, I’ve always known that. It was truly awful when I had to flee the castle as I knew I wouldn’t see you - maybe ever again - but I had no choice, and I just had to try and put you out of my mind until Narnia was safe.”

He got up and sat next to her on the bed again. “It was really difficult. Just recently, everything was starting to return to normal and I was about to try and find you, when you arrived here as Cornelius’ assistant. It seemed fated that we should be together. But you kept on saying how I was your dear friend and.. and my heart broke. I was sure that’s all you felt for me - friendship.”

She shook her head, “No, Caspian. I don’t think I realised it until I came to the castle and saw you again, but I think I’ve always loved you too.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s face had the hugest grin on it as you finished speaking. “Really? You love me?” You nodded, “Yes, I do.” Suddenly he was back down on one knee, “Then please - make me the happiest man in Narnia and marry me!” You must have looked like an idiot with your mouth forming a large O, but eventually you managed to say “Yes!” Then he had jumped up, pulling you off the bed and wrapping his arms around you, whirling you round while you squealed and he kissed you.

After the two of you had calmed down somewhat, he left to go back to his own chambers as even although you were now betrothed, it wouldn’t be seemly for him to spend the night with you, even if you just slept in the same bed. He promised that he would have a ring for you by the next day and while you’d assured him there was no rush, he’d insisted that he wanted a betrothal ring on your finger as soon as possible.

You lay awake most of the night, too excited to sleep. It seemed incredible but all of your most precious dreams had come true.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Cornelius had appeared in front of your desk as usual and throwing aside his usual decorous manner, had hugged you. “I am so pleased to hear your news!” he declared. “I’ve never seen Caspian so happy. He was bouncing around like an over-excited rabbit this morning,” he chuckled, taking your hand and squeezing it while you laughed at his description of Caspian’s reaction. “I know the two of you will be so happy together,” he continued, “Now! We must start planning the wedding!”

When Caspian came to your study later that afternoon, he led you out from behind your desk, went down on one knee and proposed to you once again. This time, he produced a small jewellery box from his tunic pocket and opened it, showing you a ring with a large pear-shaped diamond as the centrepiece. It was beautiful and as Caspian slipped it onto your finger, he whispered, “To always remind you of the pear trees in the orchard,” with a small mischievous grin at you.

“How did you get the ring so quickly?” you asked him, as you were amazed that he’d managed to find such a beautiful, perfect ring in the space of one morning. He’d winked at you, “I have my contacts, that’s all I’m going to say.” You never did find out for sure, but there was one diamond merchant in the town nearest to Cair Paravel who had similar gems and you thought it might be from there.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One thing you did know for sure, the other ladies of the court’s eyes were out on stalks as they glimpsed your new ring when you joined them for dinner that evening. Every single one of them was praying you were going to tell them to whom you were now betrothed and eventually - when you had still said nothing and dinner was nearly over - one of them could keep quiet no longer.

“My lady… umm, I cannot help but notice your beautiful ring!” You dipped your head, “Why thank you, my lady,” you replied. She smirked at you, “But you are not willing to share the name of your betrothed with us?” You shook your head, a faux-regretful look on your face, “I cannot as yet, my lady. My betrothed has to be the one to announce it,” you went on, with a small shrug. Of course, this just meant that their curiosity ate them up even more.

But Caspian had advised you that he had to firstly tell the Grand Council, then your parents, the courtiers and the people of Narnia in that order - that was the accepted, traditional procedure and that was that. So you had to keep quiet, although in truth you were literally bursting to tell everyone!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When the news was finally announced, everyone showered congratulations onto you and Caspian. Although you did get the feeling that the other ladies of the court gave their best wishes through gritted teeth and with fake smiles. You knew that they were secretly devastated as you’d won the prize they had been trying to win, and you felt slightly sorry for them as you knew you’d have felt the same if Caspian had asked one of them to marry him.

In the meantime, Cornelius - much to your surprise - had indeed become almost your sole wedding planner, and very good at it he was too! He’d already arranged just about everything. In fact the only thing you had left to worry about choosing was your dress.

Caspian was getting nervous about the actual ceremony; he was worried he was going to forget his vows when he tried to say them to you. You had just told him, “Make them up! As long as you mean them, it doesn’t matter what you actually say.” He’d laughed, pulling you into his arms and kissing you hungrily, but then the two of you had to spring apart as two female courtiers appeared round the corner without warning. You’d all nodded to each other; they pretended they hadn’t seen you and Caspian kissing, and you two pretended you hadn’t been caught.

Until you were married this was frowned on in public, in what you considered to be one of various out-dated court traditions. You’d be shaking up some things once you were Queen, you smiled to yourself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian was super-excited on his wedding day. He was nervous, yes - but it was a good nervous. Apart from the fact that in a few moments he’d be joined together for all eternity to the woman of his dreams, tonight, their wedding night, they would finally - finally - be able to make love properly. He couldn’t wait.

Their first two attempts hadn’t exactly been stellar successes - and of course, they shouldn’t even have been trying the first time around! - but he just knew that it would be third time lucky. No guilty childish fumblings, no adult angry/jealous sex… it would be just the two of them, lying in amongst the crisp cotton sheets and deep quilts of their marital bed. No prying eyes, no interruptions, no rush - it would be just heavenly. He already felt a little thrill of arousal.

He heard the musicians begin to play the joyful wedding music and he turned to see his beautiful bride - in a gorgeous white dress and holding a bouquet of delicate white flowers - bathed in sunlight and standing in the entranceway. Would he ever feel as happy as this again, he wondered? He didn’t think he would.

She paused for a few seconds and then began to walk gracefully across the Great Hall towards him. Approaching him, through her veil she met his gaze and gave him a dazzling smile.

His smile in return was even brighter and totally blissful.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@paracosmenthusiast @jessevans

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#king caspian #king caspian x reader #king caspian fan fiction #king caspian fanfic #ben barnes #voyage of the dawn treader

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babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

Bunny (Matthew Gray Gubler/ Reader)

Requested: Yes (And I’m sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it, Anon!!)

Category: Hardcore fluff

Warnings: You have to be able to manage this level of fluffiness

Summary: Matthew just started dating this new girl he can't stop thinking about, and suddenly, all the love clichés are making sense. (Or, why MGG has been calling his girlfriend "Bunny" in all the one-shots I've written) 😬

Word count: 2.8K

A/N: Hello!!! how's everybody doing? life has been a mess in the last few weeks. Grandma is very sick and my mind hasn't been focused on writing. I also moved to a new apartment, which is great news, 'cos we needed more space, but it also means I've been weary and too busy to write 😭. I hope you are all having a good day/night/evening ✨

Masterlist

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Matthew stared at his phone and hesitated. He was about to dial but stopped himself at the last second. He had to take a deep breath and count to ten before he actually pressed "dial." And when he did, his stomach fluttered immediately.

- "Hello?"

- "Hey, (Y/N). It's Matthew Gray"-he announced, and his voice shook a little. He was nervous, and there was no way on earth (Y/N) hadn't noticed it.

- "Hello! Yes, I know. Your number is registered in my phone, remember?"- (Y/N) giggled at the other side of the line, and Gubler felt like slapping himself for being such a dork.

- "Right !! I totally forgot about that. So, how are you? "

Calling (Y/N) after their first date wasn't going as smoothly as Matthew imagined. And he had imagined it for the last couple of hours. He had imagined that conversation since he left her at her front door the night before, actually.

Gubler knew he wasn't smooth around girls he liked. He could usually pretend to be cool and mentally use it as an exercise to overcome his well-masked shyness. But deep down at the bottom of his soul, Matthew was fully aware he was awkward and weird. His hands were sweating, and he was not even looking at her. He was alone in his apartment, laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

- "Good, I'm good. What about you? How's your day off? "- (Y/N) giggled and took a look around, walking away from her coworkers and trying her best to find a private spot to talk with Gubler. She didn't want anyone to see her acting like she was thirteen, which was precisely how she was feeling. (Y/N) knew she was blushing and giggling nervously. But how couldn't she? The boy she had a massive crush on was calling her after their first date. There was no way she could be calm.

- "Good, I'm good. What about you? "- Matthew asked and closed his eyes, feeling stupid-" Sorry, I already asked that. What are you doing? am I interrupting something? "

- "No, I'm just working. Trying to work, actually. I was falling asleep on my desk when you called, so thank you for saving me from the embarrassment of crushing my head against the desk "- Matthew chuckled. (Y/N) sighed, remembering his face as he smiled at her the night before.

- "Damn! now I'm torn between being glad I saved you the embarrassment and disappointed I couldn't see you bumping your head against that desk! "

(Y/N) gasped, pretending to be shocked and upset.

- "I can't believe you just said that!"

- "I'm sorry! but let's be honest, that would have been fun!"

- "Not for me!"

- "(Y/N), are you ready for the meeting?"- the unknown voice made Gubler frown. (Y/N) answered something and sighed.

- "I guess you'll have a new chance, 'cos I've got a meeting in a moment, and I'm still so sleepy and tired I might end up smashing my head against the table after all. And it would be your fault, by the way."

- "My fault?!"- Gubler was shocked- "Why?"

- "You promised you would take me home at eleven, and as far as I remember, it was two in the morning when I reached my porch."

- "Hey! you said you were having fun!"- (Y/N) laughed, hearing Matthew's protest, and nodded her head, even when he couldn't see her.

- "I had a lot of fun! just that now I'm half asleep during work time."

- "Not my fault!"- Matthew shouted, and (Y/N) tried not to laugh and stay serious.

- "Technically, it's your fault."

- "Fine, I'll play guilty for your crime, (Y/N). But you owe me."

- "Me? why me?"

- "You sleep-deprived me too!!"

- "Why me, Gubler?"

- "You were the one who said, "one more cup of coffee, Gub." Remember?"- Matthew made his best impression of her, and (Y/N) laughed so hard, half the office turned to look at her.

- "And you never declined, even at one in the morning."

- "How could I!? You found my only weakness!"

- "You can't say no to coffee?"

- "No, I can't say no to you."

The silence in the line was long but not heavy. (Y/N) was blushing, flustered, not knowing what to say. So she just giggled. And Matthew held his breath as he heard her snickering.

- "(Y/N), come on! We are waiting for you,"- someone said, and the girl answered something Gubler couldn't understand.

- "Matthew, I have to go, but... we can talk later."

- "Sure, sure, go. Maybe we can have a coffee later, or dinner. Or maybe dinner and then have a coffee, I don't know. Whatever you pick will be fine with me".

Matthew Gray Gubler was rambling nervously, laying on his bed, looking at the ceiling, hoping she'd say yes.

- "Dinner and coffee sound nice."- (Y/N) whispered and bit her lips, trying not to giggle.

And just like that, finally, Matthew Gray Gubler had gotten himself a second date.

It shouldn't be so hard for him to get a girl. And technically, it wasn't. But Matthew didn't want to date girls for the night and then never hear from them again. He didn't want a fling, not with (Y/N). With her, he wanted the whole deal, and he knew it from the second he saw her talking with her friends across the room from him, at a party at his best friend's, a few weeks earlier.

Gubler wasn't looking for a girlfriend until he saw her. He didn't believe in "love at first sight." For him, that it was bullshit, crap people make up to justify being stupid and making silly decisions. But then came (Y/N). He heard her laughter first, and his eyes looked for her across the room. He felt how his heart stopped for a second when he found her, and he knew he had to meet her.

Yes, it was corny and cheesy, and if Gubler heard his friends talking about something like it, he would have laughed at them for hours. But no, it was happening to him. It was real, and he didn't know what to do or how to act. So he did what he did best: he improvised, hoping for the best.

The night he met her, they talked until six in the morning, and though they never said it out loud, neither of them wanted to end that conversation. (Y/N) was glad he had asked for her phone number, and for the next two weeks, they talked every day and texted most of the day. But Gubler couldn't see her or ask her out, 'cos he was forced to leave town to shoot an episode of Criminal Minds in Vancouver.

It hadn't been a bad thing, though, 'cos they really talked a lot those days he was out of town, and by the time he was back in Los Angeles, the first thing he had done was asking her out. They had coffee and then ice cream. Went to the movies. Had dinner and then more coffee as they walked around, talking like they had known each other their whole lives.

For Matthew, everything made sense. All the movie clichés made perfect sense.

- "Hey!"- (Y/N) smiled and waved at Matthew as she stood in front of him and stared at him, nearly holding her breath. She tried to understand why someone as gorgeous and funny as he was, wanted to go out with her, but she didn't have any logical answer to that.

Matthew smiled and waved, hesitating for a second before he leaned in and pecked her lips. It was their first date. It wasn't their first kiss. But they were both so nervous; they just giggled and smiled for the first couple of seconds.

- "Ready for dinner?"- he asked her and watched her nodding enthusiastically- "Good because I'm starving. I forgot to have lunch."

- "How do you forget to eat?"- but Matthew just shrugged and smiled- "Your stomach doesn't growl?"

- "I was too busy and didn't realize how hungry I was until it was almost time to leave, so I just grabbed a Snickers bar and drove here."

- "Well, then let's have dinner. You need some real food in that skinny body"- (Y/N) smiled and pointed her finger directly to his ribs.

- "I eat a lot."

- "A lot of junk food"- she argued and giggled as the two of them made their way to Matthew's car- "You need more veggies."

- "I eat my greens, thank you very much."

- "Green M&M's do not count as eating greens, Gubler."

- "That's pretty cynical coming from the girl who gave me a tray of home-baked cinnamon rolls last night."

- "How many of those did you eat today?"- Gubler had devoured ¾ of that tray during that morning.

- "Just one at breakfast"- he lied, opening the passenger's door for (Y/N).

- "You are a lousy liar, Gubler"- she chuckled and looked at him as he smiled and moved a little closer to her, landing his hands on her waist, making her shiver at the sensation.

- "Fine, I ate most of the rolls. But that's your fault."

- "Again? Everything is my fault according to you"- (Y/N) pouted, and Matthew twitched his nose as he leaned in and kissed her. It was their second date, and Matthew couldn't stop kissing her already.

- "You look too damn adorable when you do that."- (Y/N) whispered and sighed when the kiss was over.

- "When I do what?"

- "That thing with your nose."

- "It's a tic"- Gubler tucked a flick of her hair behind her ear and pecked her one more time.

- "You look like a bunny."- (Y/N) teased and started mimicking the nose twitch as she smiled, and Gubler laughed. He felt so warm inside his heart that he refused to think it was just their second official date.

- "You are the one forcing me to eat greens. You are the bunny."

- "That makes no sense, Bunny Gubler."- he chuckled and shook his head. He was having trouble keeping himself from kissing her the whole time.

- "You are the bunny, Bunny"- he repeated and twitched his nose again, making her giggle.

- "How come I am the bunny if you are the one with the adorable nose twitch?"

- "I don't know"- Gubler wrapped his arms around her and kissed her nose- "But you are cute like a bunny, and soft"- he whispered and caressed her cheek slowly as he spoke. (Y/N) stared into his eyes and didn't know what to say. So she just bit her lips and made her best not to blush.

- "Did you know a baby rabbit is called a kit, a female is called a doe, and a male is called a buck?"- Gubler had no idea where those words had come from. Still, apparently, he couldn't shut up when he was with her, even if that meant rambling about the most random facts he could think of.

- "Matthew, your Reid is showing."- (Y/N) quickly said, frowning, and Gubler burst out laughing right away.

- "Weird fact: when I start sounding like Reid is because I need to eat asap."

- "Let's get you fed before you start profiling me, then"- (Y/N) winked and got into the car. Gubler closed the door for her and jogged to the other side of the vehicle.

- "What do you feel like eating today, Bunny?"- he asked, and (Y/N) looked at him and raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

- "No, I'm not letting that one go, Bunny."

- "You are the one with the nose twitch!"- (Y/N) argued, again- "You are the Bunny!"

- "Nop"- Gubler smiled, pleased, and looked at her.

Do you know that feeling of home some people give you? It was the third time he was with her in the same room, and she already felt like home to him.

Matthew knew he couldn't say any of those things to his friends, or they would make fun of him for the rest of his life.

- "Then you are going to be Honey"- (Y/N) sentenced, somehow defeated- "That way we can be team Honey Bunny."

- "Team Honey Bunny?"- Gubler asked, confused- "Why?"

- "I don't know!"- (Y/N) nearly shouted, chuckling- "But I wanted to call you Bunny! I thought about it the whole freaking day! and you just stole it from me!"

That was way too much information. Way more than what (Y/N) wanted to give Matthew on their second date. But it was too late now. She had already snapped.

- "You thought about me the whole day?"

Matthew asked, and his voice was nearly a whisper inside the car. (Y/N) looked over the window for a second. They weren't moving from the parking lot. There wasn't much to see out there, but she felt if she looked at Gubler, she would confess she had a massive crush on him already. That crush was way too big if you consider it was just their second date.

(Y/N) was freaking out, scared of all the things she felt already. That shouldn't happen. She had to keep her head cold because Gubler was an actor, and who knew his true intentions with her? But deep inside, (Y/N) felt she could fall in love with him so fast it was scary. Terrifying, actually, because she couldn't stop her feelings, and each time (Y/N) looked at him, all she could think of was: "Happily ever after."

There was no way she was telling any of that to her friends, 'cos they would all make fun of her. It was corny, and cheesy, and complete nonsense.

Still, it felt real, and she didn't know how to explain it.

- "Maybe"- that was all (Y/N) could answer and bit her lips, still making her best not to look at Matthew.

- "I thought about you the whole day."- he confessed, and his eyes scanned her whole face. She was trying her best not to turn to him but failed. Those words had been too sweet and too sincere to overlook them. (Y/N) just turned to him and smiled.

- "Really?"- the young woman asked, as her cheeks turned all shades of pink.

- "I haven't stopped thinking about you ever since I first saw you at that party."- Gubler confessed- "And I know it's too soon, 'cos we've only known each other for a few weeks now, but would it be ok if I call you my "Bunny" from now on?"

The way Gubler even pouted when he was done talking made (Y/N)'s knees shake unconsciously. And it wasn't just that he wanted to call her Bunny that made her feel that way, but the fact he wanted to call her "his" Bunny.

She knew she wasn't his propriety, but damn, that question made her feel things she had never imagined feeling before.

- "I don't think I have a choice, do I?"- she answered, pretending to be upset- "But if you want me to be your Bunny, you are going to have to be my "honey" then."

The way those words made him feel was so good; Gubler was sure he was screwed. She was going to be the end of him, for better or worst.

- "Then it's settled, Bunny."- he said and stared at her with a goofy smile on his face. She blushed and shook her head, still trying to be the sensible person and failing spectacularly.

The next thing she felt was Matthew's hands on her face, cupping her cheeks sweetly. So gently and carefully, in fact, she felt worshipped by him. He stared into her eyes for a second before rubbing his lips against hers, giving her the most passionate and loving kiss she had ever received. It felt so good she felt embarrassed when a little whimper left her lips when she felt Matthew pulling away from her, slowly.

- "Wanna have dinner now, Bunny?"- Gubler asked her, his voice a whisper as his lips rubbed (Y/N)'s slowly. She just nodded and sighed as he smiled at her and kissed her one more time.

- "Ok, and what do you wanna eat tonight?"

- "It's your time to pick, honey. You are the one who didn't even have lunch today."

(Y/N) whispered and bit her lips. She was staring into his eyes as he spoke, and all she could see was adoration, which was exactly how she felt about him too.

- "Then I pick whatever my Bunny wants to eat."- Matthew murmured and kissed her again.

- "If I'm the Bunny, I'm picking anything with lots of veggies and vitamins for you."

- "On second thoughts, you are right. I should pick. I was thinking maybe some ice cream."

- "No, you need real food."- (Y/N) frowned as Gubler sat straight on his seat and started the car- "And then you can have some ice cream, and maybe some more cinnamon rolls tomorrow!"

- "You can't blackmail me with cinnamon rolls, Bunny"- Gubler turned to her and smiled, as she raised an eyebrow and simply replied.

- "Watch me, honey."

******************

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