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#at least it deserved to see the light of day for once
ghouljams · 2 days
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What Once Was
A perspective shift, a pause, a brief respite before doubt takes hold again. Android!Ghost feels his heart beat.
You grew up in Manchester, or at least you had a job out there. You don’t like thinking about “growing up.” As far as you’re concerned you’ve been doing this your whole life. Fixing things. You had a job, an apprenticeship, with a bot mechanic at one of the industrial plants. You’d taught yourself coding, but at risk of electrocution you’d found someone to teach you the rest. It was hard, but the work was rewarding. You were young, but unlike people, bots care more about the results than how long a doctor has been a doctor. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t know they should have. 
The area was rough, you always liked the industrial parts of town, but even you could admit the place had seen better days. There was this old butcher shop. Real old school, but people like that. Meat tastes better when it’s cut by human hands, you’d heard someone say once. And there was this kid working there, Simon, he couldn’t have been much older than you. You saw him on your lunch breaks sometimes. You shared your sandwich with him.
He smiled sometimes, more than you would have thought given everything you knew about him. He liked working with his hands, you got that. He liked being away from home, you got that too. He never called you crazy when you talked about bots like they were people. He was sweet, you liked that about him. 
He disappeared one day, without saying goodbye. You figured that was just what happened to people who lived like you two did. You didn’t even bother with a police report. Maybe you should have.
-
You still sit with your knees pulled up to your chest when you’re working on small parts. Your brows still furrow the way they did when you were a teenager. Ghost watches you flip down your magnifier over your eyes and remembers teasing you about needing glasses from squinting too much. You still blow the dust out of old cartridges and stick them into your arsenal of wires just to listen to the technicolor drone of ancient video games while you work.
“Just the music,” you’d told him years and years ago, “it helps me focus.”
You’re exactly the same, and yet you’re so unfathomably different. Or maybe he’s different. Different in the ways that matter most, in the ways that mean you’ll never recognize him. It’s better like this. He’s been through too much to be the sort of man you deserve. Barely a man at all, really.
That doesn’t stop him from circling you, like a moth to a flame, or a weary soldier to the comfort of home. He finds himself in your workshop with repairs that aren’t repairs, with injuries that he’s never been bothered by before. Ghost sits and lets you run diagnostics, lets you poke and prod at his gears, and he never says a word. Never mentions that you still look beautiful in work lights, that you shouldn’t hold your tweezers in your mouth because you always pinch your lip, that you’re still you even when he isn’t sure he’s still himself. He never mentions that he has a million things he’s never told you, that he wanted to tell you but never got the chance to. 
He thinks them sometimes: when he’s watching you work, when you smile up at a bot warmly, when you ask him what’s wrong, when you start walking towards him before you even know what he needs, when you lay your hands on him and he flips every sensor to try and feel your warmth. He thinks that he loves you, that no matter how little of him is left he’ll always love you. He could love you with nothing, with bare circuits and white matter, and that would be enough to keep him going.
It was enough to keep him going. It isn’t anymore. Not when you’re here, so close and still a thousand miles away. Not when you don’t recognize him, when you don’t see the scrawny kid from Manchester in the corded steel and dense circuitry. 
Did you think of him when he left? Did you worry? It always felt melancholic, said as a joke that neither of you laughed at: it’s gonna kill me one day, this world’s gonna kill me. Was that what you thought happened? When you knew about his father, when he sat down for lunch with fresh bruises and a split lip, did you think that’s what happened when he didn’t show up the next day? Did you mourn him?
He should have taken you with him. Sixteen. Young enough to kill for a living, but still too young to save you. He couldn’t save anyone, couldn’t even save himself. 
They shouldn’t have put him back together.
Not if it meant he’d see you again.
Not if it meant you’d look at him like this,
Like nothing.
Repairs that aren’t repairs. Injuries that never bothered him before. Diagnostics. Circling. He knows it will burn him, he can feel the heat, but he can’t stop. Androids aren’t supposed to feel. Men aren’t supposed to be metal. And you don’t love him.
Not anymore.
(If you ever did.)
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myork · 2 years
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#im sorry i clearly need some time#im so happy for them and so happy for everybody who was able to process this in a healthy manner and now feel light and look forward#i cant#im so happy for them and im so happy they’re getting this time they deserve it but at the same time im so sad and i cant process these#emotions rn#ive been having terrible days that turned into weeks and then just the whiplash of laughing at their jokes to suddenly talking about the#hiatus and seeing jimin cry i just#idk what to do idk how to process this how to not feel so heartbroken like i wish i could’ve found them sooner just to make this last more#and i rlly love all of them and im here for all 7 of them but when they said they wont gather together like this for some it broke#something inside of and idk if im being dramatic but this is so hard for me and i have nobody to talk about this with#and idk im gonna go away for a while this is all people are talking about and its not comforting me#denial isn’t healthy but at least it wont hurt#my irl life is changing and i don’t respond well to change#the hardest part of my life till now was 2 years ago and thats i found them and now my life is changing big time and i can’t believe they#wont be together for it#they were the only thing i had that made me happy or made me feel ‘something’ once upon a time#and in a way they still are.#things are changing well a lot of things are and ig i don’t feel ready idk how to express it any better im sorry#i might gif the happy moments or the performance tomorrow but we’ll see 😞
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screampied · 2 months
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can you do soft sukuna after an argument vegas for fluff pretty please i think we deserve it after all you've done to us
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ MAYBE I’M THE PROBLEM﹒⺡ SUKUNA RYŌMEN. ’
sum. gn! reader, angst with c-comfort, he’s a softie at heart, fluff, petnames, ty lucy for beta'ing <3
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“what’s with you today?” sukuna furrows his eyebrows, and he lightly grabs your wrist. you face him only to briefly look away with a stubborn scowl. “you didn’t have to do that. i can take care of myself.”
he was referring to earlier…how careless you were, at least from his perspective. throwing yourself in danger just for sukuna. perhaps it was stupid, but at that particular moment—you didn’t have a thought that crossed your mind.
“well, i did,” you mumble, and sukuna bites his tongue from the inside of his cheek. his nostrils flare before he grabs your shoulders.
“what are you not getting? and if you died trying to protect me, then what?” and for a brief moment, it was dead silence. you stared at sukuna, and you can’t remember a time he looked like this. sukuna was … scared. the more you looked into his dark eyes, once full of arrogance and wit — instead, his pupils dilated and widened. his thumbs gently pressed into your skin, and then he continues to speak. “how can you even be calm about something like that?”
“i wouldn’t have to do things like that if you’d just be more careful,” you chastise, a sudden wave of gloom spraying over you. sukuna kept pausing every few seconds, as if he was carefully thinking of what to reply with.
sukuna’s almost got a glare before he sighs. “i told you. i can take care of myse—”
“no, you can’t sukuna. you know how many times you’ve almost died? the countless days where i’d be worried sick about you. if anyone’s reckless, it’s you. and you wonder why i act like this, it’s because i’m in love with you, you idiot.”
you don’t even register your words, it’s as if you’ve been yearning to get that out for ages.
sukuna grows mute, trying to figure if he actually heard what he’d just heard. you…you were in love with someone like him?
the awkward silence was deafening, a single tear strolls down your cheek before sukuna’s face suddenly softens.
he brings a thumb up to your cheek, swiping the tear aside before muttering in a raspy, “you love me?”
“i thought it was pretty obvious,” you grumble, avoiding his eye contact. your heart ached, never in your life have you felt this vulnerable. saying it out loud only made you flustered immensely quick. a soft smile goes against his lips — you didn’t answer his question, but he knew the answer. you loved sukuna. “but whatever.”
“oi. don’t ‘whatever’ me,” sukuna mutters, cupping both sides of your face. he has you stare right into his eyes, the eyes where most see a cruel villainous person, you see the softest eyes imaginable. reserved only for you. “look at me,” and you finally meet his gaze, a smug grin slowly tugs against the corners of his mouth. “you’re in love with me.”
a weird tingly feeling crept up inside your stomach, and you give sukuna a glare. “you know,” he keeps speaking, a soft finger stroking your cheek. “instead of almost dying for me, you could have been normal and just said, ‘i love you’.”
“…shut up,” you grouse, entirely abashed. he found it cute seeing you like this. in the midst of your mini tantrum - sukuna hums to himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“hmpf. well, i suppose i love you too, brat,” he utters, watching your face briefly light up at his words. sukuna saying it back couldn’t have made your heart swoon even more, but it did. “and i’m sorry for being so careless.”
you felt butterflies collide inside your tummy before you blink, ears perking at his first initial words and you pout. “you suppose?”
sukuna looks down at you before he awkwardly pats your head. “i … love you,” his voice was a mere soft rasp. studying his stare, sukuna started to grow a tad bit embarrassed. even more than you. as his fingers softly roam through your hair, he leans up close to your face and scoffs. “happy now?”
“i love you more,” you smile, feeling more relieved. he’s taken aback once you hug him. sukuna’s always been so stiff at something as simple as a hug. your frame held his waist tightly, and he’d never admit it but it was adorable.
sukuna scowls. “…. you’re squishing me.”
“shut up and hug me back.” you sigh, only taking this as an opportunity to squeeze him tighter. he was so warm.
usually…sukuna wouldn’t let anyone get this close, yet alone do this. a simple affectionate hug.
he groans, slowly wrapping his arms around you. “you’re so annoying,” and as your head rests against his chest — you look up at him, a soft smile goes against your lips. “pain in my damn ass.”
“talking about your ass isn’t romantic, ‘kuna.” you raise your brows . . . obviously kidding, but he groans.
with an eye roll, sukuna does the unexpected and pulls you up close towards his face. with a perplexed grin, you watch as he grabs you into a chaste kiss. it takes you by surprise, your hands remain flat and still before you wrap your arms around him. sukuna’s soft with you, you made him soft—and he hated it, but a tiny part of him secretly loved it too.
abruptly, he pulls the kiss away before glaring at you. “i love you.”
“i love you too, kuku.”
“…..call me that again and see what happens.”
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morganski-19 · 14 days
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part 1
The next day, there’s someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isn’t as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished. 
But he’s alive. That has to count for something.
Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddie’s wrist. So he’d be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he won’t get carted off to jail as soon as he’s stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home. 
Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But it’s right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up. 
It’s been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while he’s trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didn’t want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. He’s not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes. 
Because it will be. Wayne’s seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddie’s torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. There’s no doubt that he’s been through something unimaginable. Life changing. 
As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. He’s not ready for him to wake up changed. 
There’s a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayne’s expecting a nurse to check Eddie’s vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and he’s progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasn’t too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now. 
But instead of a nurse walking through the door, it’s the Chief. 
“Can I sit?” He motions to the chair next to Wayne.
“I suppose.”
The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. “I hear he’s been in a coma for a few days now.”
Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst. 
“I’ve known a few people who’ve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.”
“I’d like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,” Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. “That way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.”
The Chief takes a deep breath. “I’m not fully reinstated yet. I don’t have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-”
“Even if what?” Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. “Even if he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didn’t deserve. Still is. When I’m afraid he might never wake up the same again. So I’d like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.”
Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. “You smoke?”
Wayne scoffs. “That really what you're thinking of right now?”
“Answer the question.” Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe there’s more to his words. 
“I do.”
“Great,” he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. “Come on, let’s go.”
Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesn’t really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone. 
“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. No don’t do that. Cause I don’t think it’s time to throw a party yet, not while.” He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. “Just won’t feel right without all of us.”
Wayne has no clue who he’s talking about, but it’s probably not Eddie. Hopes it isn’t. He still doesn’t know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddie’s innocent. Doesn’t forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldn’t be surprised if they all were true. 
The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where there’s no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears. 
“What I say does not leave this conversation,” he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. “Got it?”
Wayne nods. 
“I know Eddie’s innocent. But there’s some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and they’re looking for a fall guy. And I’m trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isn’t your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.”
“I don’t even know how to start processing what you just said.” Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway. 
The Chief laughs. “That was all of us the first time this happened. I’d say it gets easier but it really doesn’t.”
“The first time?”
“There’s a lot more to this town than meets the eye.”
“How do I know your word is any good?”
The Chief considers this for a moment. “You don’t really. But who else do you know who can fix this?”
With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope he’s wishing won’t get put out.
I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.
also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar
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futureman · 6 months
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happiest day
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pairing: mike schmidt x reader
summary: when you least expect it, mike surprises you with a confession
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, hint of angst, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, mentions of rough sex, requited feelings
word count: <1k
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Mike tells you he loves you for the first time the way no one ever should. Balls deep, while he's cumming inside you.
It tumbles out, a quiet moan at first, then a louder realization that takes both of you by surprise. His hips slam into your ass once, twice, and then he's filling you up, his admission hanging heavy in the air.
You're almost positive you imagined it until he repeats it again with a little more conviction.
"Fuck. I think I'm in love with you," he pants heavily, his hands intermittently squeezing your waist in time with the heady pulsing of his cock.
There's a beat of silence while you struggle to process his words, torn between the warring sensations of his release leaking down your thighs and shock tugging at your ribcage. He slips out of you as he softens, and once your connection is broken, it hits you like a ton of bricks.
"...What?"
He freezes behind you, and you immediately regret your gut response. That's not what you meant to say at all. Of course, it's not. You're just...confused. You hadn't expected it from him, not when you've only been together for a few months. Part of you wants to wait and see if he takes it back, just in case. But he doesn't.
"If...it's okay, you know. If you don't feel the same, it's okay," he mumbles, folding over you to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades.
His breath is warm and humid against your skin as he peppers soft, lingering kisses down your spine. Strong arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you like this might be his last chance, and suddenly it all feels so real. You've been too quiet for too long and now he's afraid.
You haven't told him yet, but there's no need to be. You just can't figure out how. How can anyone possibly cram the immensity of months of pizza nights on the living room floor watching James and the Giant Peach with Abby, and days off work spent tangled in bed, fucking and fighting and forgiving, into three little words?
You try anyway, but what comes out isn't a response. It's a plea. You don't know what you're asking for—you just know you need him.
"Mike," your voice shakes with it. He holds you tighter, and now there's so little space between you, you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"You don't have to say it. It's okay, I won't be mad. I just...I need you to say something. Anything," he whispers, his day-old stubble rough and grounding as he speaks.
He nuzzles into you, breathing unevenly—nervously—and you realize he's comforting you. Regardless of what you decide, you're still his first priority.
You find his hand where it rests, splayed across your stomach, and lace your fingers with his. Just say it. Just tell him, say it back. There'll be plenty of time to show him how much you mean it.
Because they're not just words. They're not even a feeling. Love is a promise, and you'll keep it.
Taking a steadying breath, you turn in his arms and pull him down on top of you. It's the first time you've seen his face since he got home and wrestled you onto your hands and knees, all searing touches and deep, frantic thrusts. Since he told you he loves you.
His eyes meet yours, darting from one to the other, desperate for an answer, but yours, instead, follow the freckles across his nose down to the curve of his cupid's bow. There is so, so much to love about Mike Schmidt, and he deserves to know it.
"Of course, I love you," you promise, tilting your chin up so your bottom lip just grazes his top.
His face lights up with an unrestrained smile you see so rarely, the one reserved only for you and Abby on his happiest days. You lean forward to kiss him, softly and open-mouthed, and he inhales sharply, his hands shooting down to your waist.
His grip is a little too tight, and you think maybe he's scared you'll take it back, so you wrap your legs around him to hold him right where he is. Then, the kiss deepens and, when his hands start to roam, you realize what he needs.
Mike has always found solace in you, inside you, whenever he's struggling to express or accept what he's feeling, and right now he's asking for reassurance. Hooking your heels behind his back, you tug his hips into yours, and he groans into your mouth as he slips through his release still dripping from your heat.
He's already hard as a rock and bucking into you as if he didn't fuck you into his mattress less than an hour ago, except this time you can see him. The tension between his brows and in his shoulders visibly loosens, and he exhales a sigh of relief the moment he's buried to the hilt.
Enveloped by your warmth and security, it falls from his lips again, over and over—an increasingly sure declaration as he continuously fills you up and hollows you out.
You repeat it back, and it feels good. It feels so good to love Mike Schmidt.
thanks for reading!
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jazjelspen · 2 months
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my angel baby (part 4)
alastor w/ angel daughter reader
(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )
(requested tags: @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @maliciousmace @nevermorekisses @wildfire153)
(thanks to my amazing editor for helping me with this chapter!! @kruncher mwa mwa! /p)
It's been half a month, and you still aren't sure if you really wanna do this.
Sure you have done your research on spells, blessings, everything to protect yourself and maybe even others while venturing into Hell, possibly even in battle if you felt brave enough.
But nonetheless, it was conflicting. Not only were you going to see your father again but you're going to be literally in hell-- the terrible place was always a tempting topic to bring up in a hushed conversation, though few actually dared to do it. It's the worst place to go to after death, everyone on earth hated speaking of it and mentioning it was somewhat like a bad omen, at least from how you've seen others react to it at certain times.
Why bother diving head first into a realm where none of it’s events or residents were any of your business? The souls are in hell for certain specific reasons, so why bother saving a world that was meant to be the end of the line.
Oh but-- Charlie.
Charlie Morningstar's case and evidence sure intrigued you, but was it really worth the risk? Is it worth the sacrifice, the hiding, the possible dying to try to save a bunch of sinners? All of them, more than likely... are very much similar to, if not the same as, your father.
"Maybe..n-.." you breathed out loud, your hand moving away from under your chin as you were stuck in thought sitting at your desk. You were reluctant, of course you'd be.
You looked down at your bag on the floor beside your desk, filled with supplies and necessities for venturing into hell-- you planned it out but-- was it really.. Do these sinners truly deserve to be saved? Helped?
Why, of course they do.
At the very least.. some of them. 
Those who genuinely want redemption and those who committed sins in which they had no choice before they died or to help others. Those are the ones who should be saved.
And from what you learned in the court trial exactly half a month ago, you could only imagine how many sinners Adam and his fleet of Exorcists slayed that were genuinely hoping for a better chance at this 'second' life.
Besides-- why not save lives? Even if they weren't worth saving, even if you didn't know them personally or at all. Isn't that why you got into heaven anyway? Because you sacrificed yourself for someone you didn't know in the slightest?
You died for that reason, what's so wrong in doing it a second time?
Besides, souls like that one sinner Charlie showed the court, Angel Dust, could be on the path to light and eternal paradise... you could almost feel it in your bones and you bet Emily did too.
Wait, that's right--
Emily!
You could have almost jumped from your seat, Emily was the key to your path to Hell! But how to get to her-- Sera was always around..
Oh-- No, no, this is too good.
Ever since the court day Emily has been getting a bit more distant from Sera, if you could find Emily alone once without any inclination you were seeking her out then you could do it! Convincing shouldn't be too hard, she feels the same way as you do in a certain way.
You've been so caught up in your plan to escape disguised as an exorcist that you couldn't see the answer right in front of you! All those weeks wasted-- the initial plan was bound to fail anyway no matter the amount of preparation since, according to your research, the exorcist angels were scattered everywhere in their HQ like a beehive swarm; like busy bees buzzing with bloodlust. They seemed to all recognize each other and have specific physical attributes that you lacked immensely, even if you were to try and steal a uniform you really couldn't because-- you didn't know where they kept them inside.
You took in a deep breath in and out, 'I'm definitely not coming back unscathed..' you thought 'but.. everyone deserves a second chance, even sinners. And if they really don't deserve it then might as well save them so that they may continue living out their eternal sentences with no easy way out.'
You then looked towards a corner of your desk, grabbing a small and recent photo you took with someone very dear to you. You smiled softly at it before letting out a gentle huff of confidence and then carefully stuffing that photo in your bag for your trip to hell.
You then grabbed your bag, put it over your shoulder, and carefully walked out of your home.
It was currently early night in heaven, the sky as always was filled with stars that glow immensely so that heaven is never in utter darkness. At this time of the evening everyone was home and getting ready for bed, shops closing, people walking home. Thankfully you've hung around Emily long enough to know that when she's bothered by something, she doesn't go to sleep easily till she can fix it, and from what you knew the extermination in hell was still going to happen. 
Your wings started to gently flap and as quietly as they could they flew you up to the home quarters of Emily and Sera, them owning a taller building than the ordinary 'winner' would have considering their higher statuses.
It wasn't that hard to fly by since there was no need for security or guards, heaven never exactly needed to be protected from the inside.
You made your way around a high up balcony, one that you knew led to Emily's quarters. You noticed the balcony doors closed but light flickered from within; she's in there.
Your feet carefully plopped themselves on the balcony, nervously lifting your hand to knock on it-- still hesitant.
'Do I really want to do this?' 
It was too late to even ask that now, for your hand already knocked on the glass surface of the balcony door, breath hitched-- you awaited an answer.
...
The sound of pitter pattering steps could be heard from the inside as they neared where you were standing, a figure approached you from behind the glass.
Emily!
You smiled and waved at her awkwardly as she looked at you with a mix of shock, joy, and exhaustion. She opened the door to you with anticipation.
"______! How are you!... wait-- what are you doing here? It's late, you should be at home.."
"Look Emily," you said breathlessly due to your anxiety. "There's no easy way to say this but I need a huge favor from you.. bigger than anything I could ever ask for and will ever ask for. Not only that but- I'm sure you'll believe in my cause.."
She hummed in thought, eyes narrowed at you in an attempt to see if she should listen to her head or heart. "I'm listening..."
You then nodded towards the inside of her room, silently asking if you could go inside so no prying ears could hear you, even if it's unlikely. She read the words in your expression as she nodded and welcomed you in, closing the door behind her carefully.
You started whispering, "I need you to teleport me into hell."
Emily's breathing scuffled a bit, absolutely shocked from your request. "Hell??.. but why?.. ______ you nor I have ever been to hell!.. you could get really hurt or worse die..!" she whisper-yelled in concern to one of her best friends.
"Well-- we aren't sure if they can truly kill angels but I've practiced a few spells to try to defend myself. You know I'm a lot faster with my wings and if I find Charlie I'm sure she'll keep me from getting hurt!.."
"Charlie?.." she asked, now fully remembering what happened on that fateful court day "Wait, you want to go to hell to see Charlie?"
You nodded, "I have to, it's the only way I can survive there. Besides, I need to help her.. you know that what Adam and Sera are letting happen is unjust and inhumane.. you and I both know and agree about this and you can help me by sending me down there."
"but.. _____ I--"
"Emily, the extermination is going to happen in less than a month now.. there's no time left to leave this in the air."
"______.. are you even sure you'll survive a second down there? how do you even know you need to be there, if you really want to help you can try and stay up here where it's safe--"
You let out a quick sigh of fear, afraid that she's getting cold feet "C'mon.. even with your influence Adam won't stop and neither has Sera ordered him to pause for even a moment.. Besides, if they need to have sinners show their improvement and actually redeem themselves.. they need someone who actually has been in heaven and knows how to get there. 
They need a role-model, an example, and I'm willing to help and sacrifice myself a second time to at least give other people a second chance at 'living'.
This time, you shut Emily up, she's speechless-- you truly took her breath away with how determined you were. You were right to some extent, help from a 'winner' for sinners, become just like them as a teacher and be an example could genuinely make much improvement and possibly open the case once more. 
She softly smiled at you, a small amount of pride swelling in her chest, pride that she has for you and hope that she has in your mission.
"Well.. I'll take you there but not without one thing--" she stepped closer to you and folded three fingers of her right hand, then crossed you with them in an all too familiar pattern. Right shoulder, left shoulder, forehead, chest. The sign of the Cross. A sudden glow shined from you for a split second as if a star bursted around you,
"A protection spell. To protect you from the strongest blow that encounters itself towards you, it only works once but it's the strongest spell I know that can be an extra safety net for you down there.. meanwhile I'll try my best to convince Sera to think differently about the genocides.."
"Oh.. thank you Ems!.." you hugged her and she hugged back tightly, both of you guys brimming in a flurry of hope, determination, and anxiety. "I won't let you down.. I promise when I come back, and I will, Adam won't need to kill anymore people with his exorcists anymore.."
"Just-- be careful, _____. You're one of a kind, no one helps and brightens things up like you do.." she backed away from the hug only to hold your hands and smile at you, conflicted but convinced by you.
"Promise. I'll be back before you know it."
"Pinky.. promise?" she took out her pinky finger for you to hold onto, to reassure her that she's making the right decision. Helping you.. she doesn't want to lose you by sending you down your death sentence.
"Hehe.. pinky promise." you took out your own pinky finger to wrap it around hers, another spark lighting up around your wrapped fingers as if sealing the deal.
"Good.. once again are you sure you're prepared??.." she couldn't help but ask-- she didn't want to lose her best friend..
"I'm ready to face what I have to face, ready as I'll ever be." you let out a shaky sigh, betraying you slightly.
Emily let out a shaky sigh of her own before stepping back and slowly summoning a portal, it starting from a little glow in the air to slowly trying to mass itself into your height and size so you may go through with ease. It was difficult since it was mostly Sera or Adam opening them with constant ease and she never really had to until now, unfortunately though.. it was starting to make noise.
You hold your bag as tightly as you could, double checking if all the zippers are closed before preparing yourself for the even growing yellow portal.
"I don't know exactly where the Hazbin Hotel is so-- be... be careful _____.."
You looked at her and nodded with confidence, a look of strength emitting from your face. 
There was shuffling from the hallway outside Emily's room, "Emily? What are you doing at this time of the night?" Sera could be heard from afar, her voice loudly echoing across and even through the closed doors. 
Emily sped through her magic as she used as much of her mental strength as she could to open up the portal, it shouldn't be that hard but-- she never had to do this, she never thought she would do this. She was only in charge of keeping you happy-- but if this were to make you happy, then she's obliged to do so.
The portal was finally big enough for you to enter through, both of you hearing loud oncoming steps coming from outside the halls and in a quick motion you waved at Emily with a smile, her doing the same thing before finally-- you jumped into hell.
Right as you disappeared into the yellow and gold void, she let herself go from holding it open and right as Sera was opening the door, without even knocking mind you, the portal disappeared from thin air and all that was left was Emily standing in the middle.
"What are you even doing?.." asked Sera looking puzzled.
Emily chuckled nervously, shrugging her shoulders "Practicing for next show's fireworks..? heh.."
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You on the other hand-- were being slammed against a hard metal surface that smelled like rotten flesh and food, dried blood, and other stinky items. Hitting your head against it causes you to groan in pain and slowly hold your head, the smell beside you slowly making you feel a bit sick.
Your halo, clattering to the ground, its glow still present on it.. confirming your status to still be an angel. 
"Fuck.." you mumbled, rubbing the back of your head while picking yourself up from the ground. Looking at your surroundings you were in a sort of alley, the metal surface being a large dumpster. Your wings flapped a bit to stretch them out from the hit you took. 
You look at your halo and feel a huge sigh of relief get out of your mouth, despite knowing that only becoming a fallen could only happen if the court officially banishes you from heaven from all you knew it still felt good to know you're still the same you. Besides, you didn't know if a winner has ever become sinner before so.. that at least helped your mind keep itself from flipping over.
God..but your surroundings?
It reeked.
You peeked a bit in the dumpster out of curiosity but the intensity of the smell made you wanna puke so your nose begged you to move away. Now looking at the exit out of the alley you first picked up your halo to then place it above your head, floating above you right after letting it go. Picking up your bag once again to hold it tightly near you so no one would steal it.. being as cautious as you could.
Slowly peeking out of the alley you noticed a humble little town with colors of red, shades of pink, and filled with a few sharp toothed people. Everyone walked around casually and happily, like how normal humans would. Despite how huge the place is there seems to be a lack of crowds.. as if half of the town is missing.
Huh, this place reminded you of a sunny day in New Orleans when you were alive. Is this.. really hell? You haven't come across any people jumping out to kill you or anyone else randomly but a few explosions from far away still made you jerk from fear.
You carefully stepped out of the alley, feeling especially out of place the moment you started walking out. People with various shades of gray skin, everyone with blacked out eyes, sharp teeth, and all still dressed in clothes from around the time you died, maybe a bit of more older fashions but still.. reminded you of back home on earth just slightly.
Each step you took was a new question that you gave yourself.. where were you? is this a level or part of hell? does hell look this way all the time? is the Hazbin Hotel of walking distance? is Emily okay? why does the air smell weird? is your dad Alastor around? is it obvious im not from here-- oh of course it is you have a fucking halo damn it.
'Everyone looks almost normal," you thought 'Maybe I can try to find someone to help m--'
"Oh!.." you bumped into someone, someone small. You looked down to see a fairly normal looking child with eyes entirely blacked out, no pupils to be seen. Geez.. you couldn't lie but they creeped you out a bit.
"Hello there.. sorry I didn't see you.." you spoke to the kid despite how weary you were, giving it an apologetic smile while waving a little towards them in a very awkward manner.
They spoke nothing but instead flashed you a large sharp toothed smile that made your blood curl a bit, what made it worse was what it did next.
"It's okay missy! I like your wings!" Normally you'd smile more and make small talk but-- then the kid took out a cut off hand from behind their back and started chomping it on it as if it was corn on the cob. With your skin crawling and your face as white as a sheet from the shock, the kid then proceeded to run off nibbling on the bleeding hand.
You stood there frozen, your stomach begging to release anything you ate before you came upon here. You slowly turned your head to the right, your peripheral vision noticing a large wooden sign.
'Welcome to Cannibal Town!'
'Well that.. really explains it.' you took a few deep breaths as you tried to control yourself and your upcoming panic as to not alert other cannibals of your fear.. but you could've sworn they could probably smell it off of you.
Would they eat you? Are they going to eat you?.. but some have been looking at you walking by-- are they getting ready to pounce on you, bite off your flesh and--
You stopped in your tracks, noticing how further you are in the town from all your overthinking. You looked up to see that you are at the front steps of a small stage?.. gazebo..? you couldn't remember how hard your heart was pounding.
All of a sudden you felt an incredibly sharp pain on your wing, one that made you shriek aloud and everyone suddenly stopped and stared at you. You turned to see an old lady with a cane looking very similar to other residents around you-- BITE your wing?? what the actual living fuck??
The old woman seemed to grin and licking the golden blood from the bite she got from your wings, fortunately for you she only bit and didn't actually get a chunk of your wing off instead.. either way it fucking stung the way a large wasp sting would.
"Angel wings.. not bad at all-- OUCH!!" The old lady then let out a shriek herself, being hit by the end of a sun umbrella this time and whoever was holding it was shooing her away from you.
"Shoo! Shoo! Susan!! Run off now! We don't bite new otherworldly guests like that!" The voice shouted before the old woman scurried off just as fast as she came. 
You whimpered a bit as your bitten and slightly bleeding wing leaned towards your hands, your palms and fingers then gently caressing them as an attempt to soothe the pain with tears brimming and silently sliding down your eyes.
"Oh I'm so sorry about that sweetheart, that old hag has no manners." The same voice, a woman's voice, called out to you. Her appearance also looks similar to everyone else, the only difference is her large hat decorated with elaborate feathers and adorned with a small skull. 
"Let me see that dear.." she leaned in with her hand reaching towards your wing but of course you flinched away from her, absolutely not trusting her in the slightest form your first terrible experience and the many words of others before you.
You looked at her with fear you've never felt before, fear that you haven't felt since your death. You quickly backed away, your injured wing cowering towards your hands and chest.
'Holy.. fuck..'
"The names Rosie, sweetheart, what's a pretty little thing like you walking around here with no sense of danger?"
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alastor held you in his arms as your nine year old self was fiddling with a toy in your hands after a long day of being taken care of by one of Alastor's lady friends. The man was coming out of work from hosting his famous radio show as he usually always did and now was entering his home after a tiring day from work and honestly he wasn't up for taking care of you right now. If anything he should've probably let you stay with the woman forever and he wouldn't have to be dealing with baby troubles..
Yet everyday you somehow always gave him a reason to keep you despite his almost heartless nature.
He walked in his home and closed the door behind him, locking it as well. Walking over to the sofa he turned on a nearby lamp before setting you down on the cushions and let you be in your own world while he then went to go eat something himself. You didn't have to since the woman that babysat fed you quite well and you liked what she gave so there was no need for you to be overfed.
Alastor went to prepare a meal for himself, not saying much to you in the process since all he wanted was to eat and sleep so better to just fill one of the boxes on that checklist as soon as possible. So while you were still distracted he quickly made himself a meal and started eating so he wouldn't starve before bed.
You were playing with your toy the nice lady gave you, mumbling small nonsense here and there while playing around. Until you decided to speak up loudly from afar,
"Papa, can I ask something?" you talked as you kept yourself entertained with your toy.
Alastor sighed a bit "Yes dear, what is it?" exhaustion evident on his voice that contracted to his permanent smile, be it small or big.
"Is it true that when you found me, my mama and papa didn't want me because I was an ugly and loud cry-baby?"
Alastor almost spit out his food, inevitably starting choking on it. Saving himself from dying of choking by drinking his drink he set with his food and calmed down. "W.. Why do you think that sweetheart? Who told you such an untrue lie!.." 
In truth, he didn't actually know why you were abandoned in that alley. All he found when he picked you up was you wrapped around in baby blankets in a basket and a note with a date on it, most likely your date of birth, but other than that he never knew why you ended up there and why. He simply just took you in and called you his own.
"The boys in the playground I played with said their mamas and papas knew you, and knew you found me. They then started saying I dress too girly and that my real mama and papa left me because I was ugly and a loud cry baby and that's why I don't have a mama and papa." Your little voice seemed to shake a bit but obviously tried your best to hide it away even at this young of an age.
But your father could see and hear right through you. 
Alastor sighed before taking one last spoonful of his food before leaving his meal there to walk towards you, settling himself on the same sofa you both always make the best of memories, this being one of them.
"Well darling, those boys obviously have parents who don't educate them! And are as dull as a doorknob if they say all that foolish nonsense.. you do have a mama and papa!"
You looked at him incredibly confused, since when did you have a mother?
He noticed this and laughed a bit at your expression "Silly, I'm your mama and papa! I do both jobs! I make you food, I have clothes for you, I give you a home, I get you ready for school, I talk to you all the time because you're mine!" He spoke cheerily, as if stating a very well known fact "Their eyes also must not be working also since I think I got the prettiest daughter in all of New Orleans if I do say so myself!" he pinched your cheek playfully, making you giggle. 
He continued on "Yes, you did indeed cry a lot as a small tiny baby but do you think I would've kept you if you were an enormous crybaby? Of course not! Which is why I still have you here with me." Alastor-- "And you dress too girly??.. why, but of course you'll dress the way you do.. you're my little girl! how will my little dove be able to shine in her natural beauty if she doesn't wear the most marvelous pieces of wardrobe I can get her!" He then continued to pinch both your cheeks at the same time, some of your cute baby fat still present on your face despite being a year behind in heading towards the double digits. 
You giggled and laughed loudly, smiling.. just the way you should always be.
Yes he was too tired for this, he was downright exhausted, but hey-- if he can keep an unfaltering smile despite feeling this then of course he can keep up with you even if he's not in the mood. You're the only person who he doesn't like to see in pain, in tears-- 
It's his job to do this, for what is he if he leaves you wilting by yourself with no 'light' of your own to guide you.
Certainly, he wouldn't even deserve to be called your father.
"Oh and dear?"
"Yes papa!"
"What are the boys' names? And their parents? I must have a little chat with them soon!..."
Oh, Alastor.
1K notes · View notes
works-of-fanfiction · 9 months
Text
Toothbrush || Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: It’s still early days for Lando and the reader, but he’s ready to start seeing more of her.
Song: Toothbrush by DNCE.
Warnings: None, just a wholesome read.
Word Count: 2.3k
a/n: every time I listen to this song, I imagine little fanfic scenarios in my head, so I finally wrote one! I’m a George girl at heart, but I think I’m in my Lando era rn. short but sweet - hope you like it!
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With Lando’s arm strewn across your chest and his soft snores in your ear, you didn’t dare to move. Streams of sunlight bled into the room through the gap in the curtains, illuminating his tanned shoulders that poked out of the covers. Pins and needles prickled at your feet as you fought desperately not to leave the bed. He looked so comfortable and he deserved the extra rest after all the busy weekdays preparing for the new season.
You turned your head to catch a full glimpse of his face, his mouth hanging slightly open and eyelids twitching involuntarily. You often wondered what he dreamt about, as you did with anyone who fell asleep in your company. Dreams fascinated you; the weirder the better. Your workdays often started with your colleagues all sharing their wild and wonderful dreams from the night before, with the odd nightmare sprinkled in. If only you had a pound for every time your manager dreamt of losing his teeth…
Your bladder deceived you, the pressure growing the more you tried to ignore it. Sighing, you pushed the covers off your body, careful not to disturb the half that covered the sleeping driver beside you. You shuffled to the right, fingertips gently lowering Lando’s hand onto the pillow, hoping he didn’t stir. The fresh morning air whipped around your bare frame, and you resorted to hugging yourself as you tiptoed into the ensuite.
You moved with caution, tearing the toilet paper slowly and studying the squares as they ripped apart bit by bit. As much as you hated not flushing, you didn’t want to startle the poor guy, so you opted for closing the lid. That too was done carefully, not letting the wooden pieces make a single sound as they touched. You washed your hands quickly, scrubbing them dry on a towel, a comically bright orange towel with the McLaren logo plastered all over it. You’d laughed at it the first time you stayed over, Lando cursing himself for not hiding it before you arrived. You’d wondered where else random pieces of McLaren merchandise were going to pop up. Tea towels? Bed sheets? Branded cereal, perhaps?
On your way back to the bed, you scooped up Lando’s t-shirt from the night before, slipping it on and appreciating the fabric against your skin. It didn’t make a huge difference, but at least it covered the goosebumps scattered across your cold chest. Catching your reflection in the mirror, you combed your fingers through your hair, pushing loose strands out of your eyes. Hearing a rustling in the covers, you turned to see Lando stretching his arms above his head, his eyes still squeezed shut to avoid the morning light.
“Mm… Come back to bed.” He mumbled, propping his hands behind his head like he was laid on a sun lounger. You sat on the bed beside him, resting on your right hip and tucking your legs in to lift your feet off the ground. Feeling the mattress dip, a lazy smile spread across his face as he prized his eyes open halfway. “There you are.” You laid a hand on his chest, smiling down at him before his eyes fluttered closed once again. “Beautiful.”
You exhaled, amused by his compliment. “You can’t even see me.”
“I don’t need to.”
He could be cheesy sometimes, but part of you loved it. You’d always enjoyed making fun of your friends in their honeymoon phases, mimicking their partners and overusing their new nicknames. You’d waited a long time for it to be your turn, so you planned on soaking up every pet name, pick-up line, and spooning session until they grew tired of hearing about it. God knows you’d heard more than your fair share of romantic tales.
All you wanted to do was lie back down beside him and burrow your head beneath his arm, but the grease in your hair and mascara stuck in your tear ducts begged you to go home and shower.
Being in the early stages meant that overstaying your welcome was still a possibility. You had yet to lie in past 10am with Lando, and were always dressed and out of the door before he’d even shed the covers. You’d made a promise to yourself at the start that you wouldn’t let yourself get too attached or seem clingy. Whirlwind relationships always sounded good until they weren’t, and you’d experienced them one too many times to allow it to happen again. Besides, Lando never seemed to argue when you slipped out of bed and left before breakfast. To him, it seemed like you just enjoyed your own space. For the past eight Sundays, you’d detangled yourself from his grasp, thrown on your clothes from the night before and left him with a simple kiss on the cheek, all before he’d even managed to open his eyes properly. Most of those mornings he’d rolled over to your side of the bed, inhaling the traces of your perfume and replaying the events of the evening over and over in his head. One day he’d tell you to stay; he’d hide your keys if it meant he could spend a few more hours in bed with you... What did you like for breakfast? If he ordered pancakes, would you stay and split a plate with him? Was it brown or tomato sauce you had with your bacon?
Lando felt you fidgeting on the bed and rolled over to grab your arm. You looked down in surprise, turning your wrist to take his hand in yours. “What’s wrong?” You asked, his fingers soft and featherlike against your palm, following the lines from left to right.
“What time is it?”
“Um…” You leaned over, checking your phone on the bedside table. “It’s almost 9.30.”
He groaned, slumping forward to rest his head against your arm. You laughed, moving so his head fell into your lap and your hand settled in the top of his hair. Catching a curl around your finger, you studied the tones in his hair and how they each caught the sunlight. Sitting there quiet and content with him made you a little sad, as you didn’t want to leave. Part of you longed for Sundays spent together, movies on the sofa with last night’s leftovers heating up in the microwave. You knew it was a fool’s dream considering he ended up in a new country every weekend. You cursed yourself for following your silly little rule and not taking advantage of the time you did have. In less than a month, he’d be calling you from hotels in the middle of who knows where with bad reception and voices urging him to hurry up and get back to work.
Sighing, you tapped Lando’s shoulder, whispering for him to sit up. “I should get going.” You said hesitantly, forcing yourself to stand.
“Stay. Just a little longer.” He gazed at you with puppy dog eyes, his hair unruly on his forehead and cheeks lined with crease marks from his pillows.
“Look at me, Lando.” You scoffed, waving your hands in front of your face. “I am in serious need of a shower.”
“I have a shower.” He stated obviously, his eyes finally widening to their normal state as he propped himself up against the headboard. “Towels are in the cupboard on the third shelf.”
“I… Lando – “
“Y/N.” He tilted his head, looking at you with raised brows. “You’re allowed to stay and take a shower.”
His words were laced with so much more than what he was saying. He wanted you in his shower, stepping out to wrap yourself in one of his towels with your damp hair leaving droplets on the countertop. He wanted your footprints on the bathmat – hell, he’d even put up with your hair clogging the drains if it meant there were traces of you in his home. He wanted more than just the ghost of you at his kitchen counter or out on the patio.
He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stood up and approached the cupboard, choosing a fluffy blue towel from the shelf. He rolled out of the bed, following you to the bathroom and flicking the extractor fan on above your heads. “Alright. You’ve got the rainfall shower which you turn on by twisting this towards you.” He instructed, trying to hide the smile that was creeping its way onto his face. It was crazy how long he’d waited to show you something so simple.
He turned the rainfall shower on, letting the water heat up for you. “The detachable showerhead is the same, just turn it in the other direction towards the wall.”
He stepped to the side, letting you slip past him. You stood shyly, his shirt still hanging off your body. “Well, I’m not going to shower with you watching!” You laughed, folding your arms and waiting for him to leave.
“Why? It’s nothing I haven’t already seen.” He smirked, mirroring your stance. Your cheeks flushed red at his words, visions of last night swimming around your mind. You needed him to leave the bathroom before you dragged him under the water with you.
He turned to leave, mindlessly adjusting the hand towels on the rack. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed for you. There’s a spare toothbrush in the cabinet too.”
“Are you saying I have smelly breath?” You gasped, watching as he turned back to face you with the same cheeky grin on his face.
“Oh yes. That is exactly what I’m saying.”
Pulling the shirt over your head, you screwed it into a ball and threw it at him, hitting him square in the face and blocking his view. You turned to face the shower, leaving him with a foggy view of your backside through the textured glass. “Not fair!” He shouted over the running water as you dunked your messy hair beneath the stream.
“Get out, you pervert!”
He left the bathroom laughing to himself, closing the door behind him. He rushed to tidy the room a little, making sure to leave the clothes he promised on the bed. He took the liberty of putting your clothes in the wash with his, hoping you’d be okay with it.
When you surfaced from the bathroom with the towel tucked around your body and a beaming smile on your face, he swore he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage. “Better?” He asked, sliding the pile of clothes your way.
“Much. Thank you.” You took the clothes, Lando turning away to give you some privacy whilst you changed. “Where should I put the towel?” You asked, giving him the all-clear to look at you.
“Just throw it in the hamper. I’ll sort it later.”
“Oh, I didn’t know where to put the toothbrush so it’s just in the pot beside yours.”
He smiled, looking at you but not saying a word. “What?” You asked, glancing down at yourself then back to him. “What’s wrong?”
Patting the space next to him on the bed, you sat down, pulling your wet hair over one shoulder. “I was thinking…” He started, reaching to grab your hand. Running his fingers over your knuckles, he studied the curiosity on your face as he rehearsed the words in his head. “Why don’t you leave the toothbrush in the pot?”
You didn’t catch on at first, but his words soon made sense as he shuffled closer to you, his thigh pressed against yours. Your face ached from smiling, Lando’s expression perfectly reflecting yours. “It’s convenient, you know?” He played it cool, earning him a playful slap on the chest.
“Yeah, sure! Convenience.” You mocked, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“By the way…” He spoke into your ear, his lips brushing against the lobe, tickling you. “I put your clothes in the wash, so you won’t be leaving anytime soon.” He drew back to look at you, surprised to see you still smiling.
“Good job I wasn’t planning on it anyway.” Throwing a leg over his, you straddled his lap and rested your arms around his neck.  He leaned forward, catching your lips with his and kissing you gently. Wet droplets from your hair fell onto his bare shoulder, making him shiver and laugh into the kiss. Pulling away, you swiped the water away with your hand, sliding off his lap and linking your fingers with his. He stood, grabbing the nearest hoodie hanging on the bed post and throwing it over his shoulder as he led you out of the bedroom and towards the stairs.
“So… breakfast?” His voice was muffled as he squeezed the hoodie over his head, stepping cautiously so he didn’t tumble down the stairs.
“Sounds good. What are you in the mood for?”
“I’m easy. I’ll have anything.” He opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice, turning to find you resting your elbows on the kitchen island. Something about you in his house, in his clothes, made his stomach do somersaults. It quickly became his favourite sight.
Pouring two glasses of juice, he slid one over to you, taking a seat on one of the stools. “How did you sleep by the way?” He asked, sipping his drink and snuggling up to you to rest his chin on your shoulder.
“Pretty good. You?”
“The same… But I did have this really weird dream.”
Your ears perked up at his words and you turned to look at him eagerly. “Tell me all about it.”
2K notes · View notes
izurou · 2 years
Text
if katsuki has told you once, he’s told you a thousand times—don’t wait up for me.
you never did understand what all the fuss was about. sure, the fatigue would catch up to you after a few consecutive days of doing so—but it was never anything a little more sleep in the morning couldn’t solve.
still, after seeing how adamant he was about the whole thing, you dropped the habit altogether—or at least, he thought you did.
it’s almost midnight when katsuki arrives home, easing the front door shut with the utmost care. he doesn’t bat an eye upon noticing the dull amber glow emanating from the kitchen—you always leave the little light above the stove on for him. he does however, feel his heart skip a beat when he rounds the corner and sees a figure clad in black sitting at his kitchen island.
he easily recognizes the figure as you—seemingly lost in your own little world as you rest your chin in your palm and stare down at your phone. you click on a news article that catches your eye—one from just two hours ago. dynamight’s big rescue! on the evening of tuesday september 6th, three villains entered a bank around ni—
“the hell are you doin’?” his voice lingers from the doorway, much softer than usual—because he knows you’re unaware of his presence.
it startles you nonetheless, but it could have been much worse—he probably just saved you from a major heart attack. a true hero, even off duty.
“just some light reading,” you turn your head and give him a sheepish smile, simultaneously giving him a once over for any injuries. fortunately, you find none—not that you can see at least.
“meant what’re you doin’ up,” he replies, crossing his strong arms over his chest as he takes a few steps further into the kitchen.
“waiting for you,” you hum, hopping out of your chair and padding over to him. he watches, from the moment those words leave your mouth to the moment you wrap your arms around his neck—and then he turns his head. “kats, i missed you.”
he knew it was coming, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to hear. lately, with this increase in crime, you’ve been seeing him less and less. he hates it, but he knows you—and how quick you’d drop everything for a little more time together. he’s witnessed it, all those late nights and early mornings, they took a toll on you—and you don’t deserve that. so, he put an end to it, made sure you knew how important your health was, and had you sleeping like a baby by ten o’clock most nights. but, here you are.
“go,” he nods towards the stairs and rests a hand on your lower back, ushering you ever so gently. “‘ll be there in fifteen.”
he’ll inhale his dinner, wash up at the speed of light, and slide into bed next to you—just like the old days, right?
“i haven’t eaten yet,” you mumble.
you feel his hand stiffen up, and he’s no longer steering you towards your bedroom. he peers down, scarlet eyes boring into you from right beneath his furrowed brow—because he knows that you know, he’d never let you go to bed on an empty stomach. touché.
“pain in my ass,” he mutters, dropping his hand and letting you shuffle towards the fridge where you’re harbouring two plates of leftovers. he trails his gaze down to your feet, and you swear you hear a little snort slip out of him.
as if drowning yourself in his hoodie and sweats wasn’t enough, you have his slippers on—and they’re a size, or seven too big for your feet. you don’t have enough fingers to count all the times he’s called you ronald, or said that he didn’t know the fuckin’ circus was back in town. he can make all the clown jokes he wants, you’ll never give up that warmth and comfort—him getting a kick out of the whole thing is a side effect you can handle.
“how was patrol?” you ask, sliding one of the plates into the microwave. you more or less know how it went, but you’ll keep that to yourself.
he mumbles a same old shit before giving you a vague rundown of the bank robbery—well, the attempted bank robbery. he’s cut off by the loud beeps that echo throughout the room. you reach for the button that opens the little door, but he beats you to it, nudging you away with his hip. he removes the plate—and it’s blatantly obvious that it’s his—the portion size being a dead giveaway. still, he holds it out for you to take. “eat.”
the look on your face must’ve said it all, because he’s quick to follow up. “‘ll finish what you don’t, baby. sit, eat.”
his gaze lingers on you for just a tad longer than usual before he turns around and heads for the second plate. there’s probably half the amount of food on this one, but he doesn’t seem to mind. so you sit, and eat. he’s not far behind, plopping down next to you just a couple minutes later.
“katsuki?” you side eye him, thinking about how cute he looks with his cheeks all full. it’s been a little while since you’ve sat down and had a meal with him—this is perfect, just what you wanted. still, you can’t help but look ahead as you yearn for a little more. “will you wake me up before you leave tomorrow morning?”
“mmm,” he holds his hand in front of his mouth, rapidly chewing the remainder of his bite so he can answer you. “whatever, but if you swing at me once ‘m leavin’ you there.”
as much as katsuki would love to have a testy six am encounter with the little overtired monster that is you—he won’t, because he’s going to let you sleep until your sweet heart’s content.
you won’t be happy, he knows that—hell, maybe you’ll even swing at him tomorrow evening while fully awake. nah, who’s he kidding? you’d never consciously do that. he almost smiles at the thought though, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent it.
right, you won’t be happy, but you’ll get over it. it’s his job to get up early, come home late, and deal with all the bullshit in between.
because, in all aspects of life—from sleep, right down to the level of warmth and comfort you feel on your feet—katsuki believes you deserve just a little more than him.
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superhaught · 1 month
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Incurable Cravings
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Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warning: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI)
Word Count: 1800, Part 1/?
Part 2 / Part 3
Regina bullies reader and ends up getting exactly what she wants.
Explicit content below!
You would think that keeping your head down, wearing your headphones and staying out of people’s way would mean that you could go about your day unbothered, but that was not the case today. 
You navigated through the crowded hallways at school easily enough but if fucking Jason Weems hadn’t gotten in your way, you wouldn’t have accidentally bumped into Regina. You barely touched her really, but no one, not even her former best friend, could get away with doing anything that could so much as irritate her. 
You cursed under your breath as she turned around and gave you her signature death-glare. 
“Did you just fucking try to push me? Oh my god! You totally did, didn’t you? Gretchen, you saw that, right?”
Gretchen feigned shock, “I totally saw, Regina, you’re so right.”
Regina raised an eyebrow and brought her hand to her chest as if she had been truly scandalized, “you absolute bitch!” The blonde reached out and knocked your books out of your arms, scattering them to the floor. 
You sighed and rolled your eyes out of habit. Regina grabbed your chin hard, “and now you have the audacity to roll your eyes at me? Are you fucking kidding?”
You clenched your jaw and didn’t say anything in response. Regina shook your chin forcefully, “are you going to apologize or what?”
Was it the best choice to make Regina more angry? No, of course not. But you were so sick of the bullshit. She wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, you would have trusted her with anything. Once, you, Janis, and Regina were the inseparable trio. You weren’t cool, you didn’t have to be. You had each other. None of you judged the others’ interests or outfits or houses. You just loved each other. 
Not anymore though.
“I didn’t fucking do anything, Regina.”
“Oh, absolutely the fuck not.” Suddenly, Regina’s grip shifted to the back of your neck and she was shoving you forward. She threw open the janitor’s closet and pushed you inside, making you stumble against the sink. You hit your hip on the ceramic and winced, you’d have a bruise later for sure, but in that moment you knew that would be the least of your worries after Regina planted herself between you and the closet door and shut it behind her. 
She didn’t turn on the closet light, so you were trapped in a dark closet with the taller girl with no feasible way of getting out. 
“What the hell is your fucking problem, Regina?” You demanded. 
“What’s my problem? My problem is that I fucking despise you. I’m sick of seeing your fucking face in my school and yet, it seems like everywhere I go, there you are.”
“Jesus Christ, get over yourself, Regina.”
She put her hands on your chest and shoved you backwards, pushing you against the shelves of cleaning supplies, “how about you get a fucking grip and start treating me with the respect I deserve?”
“Respect? Why the fuck should I respect you?”
Regina scoffed, “because if you don’t, I will make your life a living hell.”
“What the hell happened, Regina? What happened to us?”
“I grew up. You and Janis didn’t. Is that supposed to be my fault? It’s so fucking pathetic that you and her blame me when all I did was learn how to get what I want.”
“You know what I think, Gina?”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” She shoved you again. 
“Answer the question.”
“Why do I care what you think?”
“I think you’re a big fucking liar.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I think that you’re a big. Fucking. Liar. For starters, you don’t despise me. And I think you actually care, a lot. And I think you have no idea how to get what you actually want, and that’s why you’re like this.”
“What the fuck are you even talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Just admit it already.” You were being bold. Maybe too bold. But for some reason, at this moment, you didn’t really care. If you were right, this could change everything. And you were pretty sure that you were right. 
Regina never left you alone. All of these years had gone by and Regina never stopped tormenting you. She always put her hands on you every chance that she got. She didn’t continue to bother Janis in that way. But you always faced her wrath. 
Regina was stunned into silence at your words. 
You lowered your voice to a whisper, “you don’t hate me, do you, Regina?”
She squeezed your upper arms, digging her acrylic nails into your skin, “I… I…”
“Say it,” you leaned in and brought your lips right against her ear, “say that you crave me. Say that you always have.”
The blonde’s breath caught in her throat and she squeezed you harder, drawing blood with the points of her nails, “you’re such a fucking cunt…”
“That’s not a denial, is it?”
“Fuck you…” she whispered. 
“No, Regina. I think I’d rather fuck you. That’s what you want, isn’t it? And wouldn't it be the biggest show of respect for me to give you exactly what you want?”
She grabbed your chin again. Your core tightened with terror, but then she yanked you close and captured your lips in a bruising kiss, immediately biting your bottom lip and pressing her tongue into your mouth, claiming you as hers. 
Your instincts tell you to melt at her touch and just let her take you, but you knew it would be much more satisfying to get back at her just a little bit. 
You matched the intensity of her kiss and fought her for control over it, bringing one hand to her waist and the other up to her neck, giving just the slightest squeeze and pulling away from her, you decided to tease, “there you go, Regina… isn’t that so much better?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Make me…”
Regina pressed into you again and kissed you even harder than before. The kiss was absolutely intoxicating and made you want to black out from pure bliss but you were determined to make sure that you didn’t take the back seat for even a second during this. You held onto her and pulled her in closer, pressing your chests against each other and burying your fingers into her hair as you kissed feverishly. You began to move your lips along her jawline, making her produce this delicious moan that you’d never forget. Your lips danced along her soft, sensitive skin and sucked at it lightly, teasingly, not to leave marks but to make her think you would. You grabbed her earlobe between your teeth and bit ever so slightly, and then kissed down her jugular. 
You felt her begin to grind her hips against you and you giggled happily, “you wanted me so badly, didn’t you?”
She could only respond with a long moan of pleasure. Your own chest filled with warmth as your heart pounded, the blondes’ sounds sending shockwaves through your system and between your legs. 
You grind your hips in tandem with her and create that friction you both need, “let me make you feel good, Gina. Let me take care of what you need, babygirl…”
“Fuck… fuck… yes… please… please…” she whined. 
“Yeah? You want that?”
“Yes… ohmygod yes, please…”
You kiss Regina again and turn the both of you around, pushing her back against the shelves. You kiss her lips hungrily and then pull away slightly, her sticky lip gloss making a smacking sound when you separate, a string of spit connecting you. You whisper against her lips, “I’ve always wanted you…”
“Shut up…” she gasped, “shut up… just shut up and fuck me…”
“Aw,” you tease, “It’s cute that you think you’re calling the shots right now…”
Regina groaned, “you… fuck-”
“Relax, babygirl… I’m just teasing. You’ll get what you need, I promise.” You let your hands trail down her sides and untuck her shirt from her pants, tracing the pads of your fingers over her hip bones, “I’ve never wanted to deny you what you want, Gina… you want me to touch you?”
“God…” she groaned, “yes… touch me…”
You smile and slowly slide your hand down the front of her pants. She moans and bucks her hips forward. Your fingers graze over her panties and you can feel how wet she is. You simply move the gusset of her underwear to the side and start to rub your middle finger through her folds and she moans deeply, arching her back and leaning against the wall. 
“You want this, Regina?”
“Yes… yes…”
You nod and start to circle her clit. 
She sighs and grinds against you, “stop being so fucking gentle!”
“What’s wrong, Gina? Impatient?”
Regina groans and you give her what she wants by sliding your middle finger inside. You can tell straight away that she’s already close to finishing, her muscles clench around you and her knees go weak. You support her with your other arm and add your ring finger and start to pump your fingers in and out of her, curling them to hit that spot. 
The blonde throws her head back and moans loudly, crying out your name. It’s music to your ears but you say, “shhh, Regina… don’t let everyone hear you cumming on the fingers of the person you’re supposed to hate the most…”
She groans again and lifts her arm up, biting down on her own forearm to silence herself. 
“Good girl,” you praise. Regina moans and her eyes roll back. You had no idea you’d be able to make her fall apart so easily. She keeps rolling her hips, fucking herself on your fingers now rather than letting you continue to tease her. You indulge it and press your thumb on her clit and soon enough she’s completely coming undone. Regina’s body shakes erratically and you feel her walls tighten around your fingers as she comes.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuck…” she breathes, “fucking shit…” Regina grabs the front of your shirt and pulls you forward, kissing you deeply and pulling the hair at the nape of your neck. 
You kiss her and moan into her mouth. She pulls on your hair and yanks your head back, “I hate you… I hate you so fucking much…”
“No you don’t… you’re confusing two strong emotions, Gina…”
“How the fuck do you know what I feel?” 
You try to look into her bright blue eyes but can't see well in the dark closet, but you're certain you heard it in her voice. You lift your hand up to her cheek and caress your thumb over it, confirming your suspicions as you wipe a tear off of her skin.
You sigh, “because I feel it, too.”
Next Chapter
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freakingholland · 2 months
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"Cold cloths, warm hugs" Jason Todd x gn!reader
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A/N: My first ever Jason x reader fic whaaat! I have such a soft spot for this guy ugh <3 also this is so fluffy and silly, I'll see myself out!
Warnings: not proofread, swear words, Jason is feeling unwell so a mention of headaches? use of painkillers
Summary: You and Jay have a night off, what could possibly go wrong? (fluff, hurt/comfort-ish)
Word count: 850 +
If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland
questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here
masterlist (needs a proper update)
-
You were in the middle of watching some kind of lighthearted show on your night off. Jason had a night off as well, the two of you had been sitting on a couch and simply enjoying each other’s presence. Jason had been reading a book curled up next to your tucked figure, as your back was leaning against the opposite arm of the couch. Unexpectedly his reading session got disturbed. At least you thought so since he had gotten up from the couch, tossed his reading glasses aside on the coffee table and went to the kitchen without a word. At least 5 minutes had passed, and he didn’t return.
“Hey- you alright in there?”
-
“-Yup, just a sec.”
He didn’t sound very convincing. His response seemed wavering, and it was enough to make you a bit wary. As you didn’t want to possibly annoy him with your raised voice, not knowing the problem yet, instead of shouting from the sofa, you went to check on him.
His head was hanging low as he was standing with his hands resting on the counter. There was an unscrewed bottle of painkillers and a now empty, wet glass. You went behind him and put your hand on the small of his back.
“What’s going on baby?” Your heart ached at the sight.
“--Headache.” He whispered through gritted teeth. His tone made you uptight.
“I- I- gotta lie down.”
“-can you get me a cold-- towel? Please…” He spoke quietly while turning to go to your bedroom. Your hand dropped to your side.
“Course. You’re nauseous?”
He slightly leaned on the doorframe before going further away from you. He shut his eyes as the light hit his face when leaving the kitchen.
“Yeah…”
He then faltered to rest up.
“Shit.” You cursed under your breath putting your head in your hand when he left.
You were hoping that you’d have a calm evening for once, you deserved to have it. It’s been a while since something bothered Jay to that degree, whether it was a patrol injury or sickness, and the fact that he was hurting on his day off made you genuinely irritated.
On the positive side – at least he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was feeling unwell. He also asked for some help without much frustration. It took months to get to this point, but encouraging Jay to open up and communicate more has been paying off. Grief-stricken conversations still happen every so often. Hell, it would be beyond belief if they weren’t happening considering the extent of past trauma that Jason has suffered through.
But his mental health really did improve over the months of you two dating.
You put on the kettle to make him a nice warm cup of tea. With the help of a stool, you managed to find his old but beloved wonder woman mug. It took some digging in your cabinet that really needed a proper cleanup. When the tea had been made you moved on to rummage through your closet to find a cloth for a cold compress. Placing three cubes of ice in between the layers was enough to make the cloth cold.
“Babe did you drink cof—“ you stopped halfway through your whispered question when you were walking into your shared bedroom.
You suddenly stopped in your tracks realizing your possible mistake. Jay was already dosing off, curled under a blanket. His lips were slightly parted. There was a noticeable change in his posture, there was less tension within his upper body, his arms seemed more relaxed than before. You didn’t think he would be falling asleep this fast, but you figured the headache must have been bad and that the painkillers actually started to kick in.
 The sight made you sigh as you you’ve been unnoticeably holding in your breath. You tiptoed to his bed side table and put down his mug of steaming tea. You then carefully kneeled down next to the bed in order to place a compress on his forehead without startling him too much. You gently pressed it onto his skin, making sure to place it slightly over his eyelids.
“That feels so nice.” He muttered.
“Shhh ignore me and go to sleep.”
“I don’t wanna ignore you--, come here.”
You stood up and walked around the bed. Before joining Jay, you opened the window to let some fresh air into the room.
“Baby please…”
“’Kay ‘kay I’m coming.”
You carefully crawled under his blanket and big spooned him.
“You know what? I can already feel the headache going away just cause you’re hugging me.” He continued verbilising his loopy thoughts.
“Oh yeah? It must be some kind of magic.”
“Yeah, it’s Y/N’s magic.”
“Just don’t tell on me. Peeps might burn me at the stake.”
“Fuuuuuuck no I wouldn’t let them.”
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t big guy. ” you said running your hand through his hair.  
Jay rolled to his side to embrace you in a hug. He nuzzled his face into your chest and sighed with relief.
“JACE that’s cold! Stop it!” you winced and laughed as the compress touched your warm skin.
“It wouldn’t feel so cold if you weren’t so hot.”
“I think we gotta check your temperature…”
-
Stay whelmed xx Tori
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raginglesbian2006 · 2 months
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Hihi!
I enjoy your fics and I was wondering if I could request Alastor x reader where the reader paints Alastor's nails? Maybe reader paints their nails and wants to match with Alastor? Thanks for writing cool fics!
omg this is so good
Self-care day
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"I declare today as self-care day!"
Every hotel resident looked at you with dumbfounded looks on their faces as they sat in front of you on the couch. Charlie cheered from the corner.
Angel Dust, someone you'd grown close to during your stay at the infamous hotel, rose up from his seat and said, "Ya heard her. It's self-care day. Shut your traps and get movin'!" You looked up at him with a grateful sigh.
You had joined this hotel when the extermination had been moved up. You were doing fine till then but panicked when you heard the news and immediately took shelter in the confines of the Hazbin Hotel. Much to your fortune, you were accepted immediately- by Charlie and Vaggie that is. Others...well...they took some time. But you made friends anyway!
Well... you couldn't call Alastor, your friend. He was more of an acquaintance...of sorts. A menacing smile you saw from time to time wander around the hotel. He managed to spook you a couple of times by randomly appearing behind you and greeting you with a loud and boisterous laugh. You almost fell down the stairs and cracked your skull open once, had it not been for Alastor's shadows preventing you from losing your balance.
"Now my dear, death at the bottom of the stairs of this fine establishment won't do well for its name, now, would it? What would the papers say?"
After the great war between the demons and the angelic exterminators and losing one of the best souls that had graced this hotel; everyone helped rebuild it to its former glory. Scratch that. It was more glorious than before.
So a day after, you had suggested to Charlie that everyone working at the hotel should deserve some rest. Quality time with themselves, if you will. Of course, Charlie was all in.
This is what led to you proudly presenting your idea in front of the denizens of hell residing in the hotel, including the literal king of hell. Alastor was nowhere to be seen as usual. He usually disappeared when called for hotel "activities" which he deemed "a waste of time."
Oh well.
At least your idea seemed to be going well for now.
Angel had pushed Husk and pestered him to let him comb his fur. He pinky promised not to make any sex jokes for an entire week if he let him do it. Husk eventually gave in which made Angel squeal in joy.
Charlie had put cucumber slices on Niffty's eyes since she refused to sit still and enjoy the face massage she had recommended. Needless to say, the little she-devil walked around the hotel lobby, with her eyes covered by cucumbers, bumping into the pillars again and again.
"Yay! Pain!" Niffty exclaimed, gleefully. Well, at least she was enjoying it.
Lucifer was teaching Charlie how to prune Vaggie's newfound wings. He was very particular with how it should be done and carefully guided Charlie through it. You absolutely loved to see them bonding.
You, on the other hand, were painting your nails. You'd noticed Alastor's claws before. You really liked the way they shone against the light. So thus, you'd resolved to paint your nails a bright red, like his claws were. Whilst you were amid your manicure, you heard the telltale static noise that announced Alastor's arrival wherever he went.
You watched as Alastor walked in through the doors of the hotel and stopped to see everyone, either on the ground or on the couch, indulging in some well-deserved self-care.
"Ah, I see you all are still not done with your... shenanigans, hm?"
Charlie gleefully said, "Al! Come join us! It's self-care day!"
Alastor let out a staticky sigh, "No my dear, as much as I would love to participate, I have better things to do." Charlie frowned but she expected this behavior from him.
Alastor was about to leave when suddenly Lucifer chimed in nonchalantly, "Maybe he's scared."
A sickening crack was heard. Alastor swiftly turned his head towards the king of hell, who was busy brushing his future daughter-in-law's wings.
"WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY?" Alastor's radio static rose significantly.
"I said," Lucifer emphasized, "Maybe you are just scared of a little massage... afraid of nail clippers. Oooh! nail polish, the sheer absolute horror!"
You chuckled at his theatrics and so did the rest of the hotel. Oh, but Alastor was not amused in the slightest. If looks could kill, Lucifer's head would be on a stick by now with the rest of his body torn to shreds.
"I can assure you, Your Majesty," Alastor's voice crackled, "I am not scared of the frivolous habits you indulge in."
"Oh?" Lucifer's smirk widened, "Prove it."
No one spoke except for Angel Dust, who whilst combing Husk's fur yelled out, "DRAMA."
You felt the air around you tense up. Alastor's grin widened even more, but you could feel it was his annoyance peaking at the king's suggestion.
Without a word, the tall deer demon started walking towards your direction.
Wait....that can't be right. Why is he walking towards you!?
Your eyes widened as he sat down right in front of you, on the ground, might I add, and spoke verbatim, "Now, would you be a dear and help paint my claws? Apparently I need to prove to that ditzy demon everyone calls "the king of hell" that I am not afraid of such puny little luxuries"
Your mouth moved once, without saying anything and then it moved again. You were basically looking at him like he'd grown seven heads.
Alastor's grin remained, "Chop chop now, my dear. My time is quite precious."
You nodded, unsure of what to do next.
"W-what color would you like for your claws to be painted, Alastor? " you spoke, trying to control your trembling, as you showed him your collection.
The demon hummed and chose a black nail polish. You took it from his hands and started painting his claws. If someone told you that one day you would be giving the radio demon a manicure, you'd have laughed at their face.
And look at you now, on the ground with the radio demon, painting his claws.
You expected him to be fussy with all this but he was surprisingly quite relaxed. He let you paint his claws with utmost sincerity and did not utter a word, the only sound coming from him being the eerie static.
This was quite unnatural of him. Not talking at all, that is. He is quite chatty almost all the time. You had to admit, it was nice to see this side of him.
You were so engrossed in your work that you did not notice that Alastor had asked you something.
"Sorry...can you repeat that again, please?"
Alastor reiterated, " Oh I just took notice of the color you chose to paint your nails."
You chuckled, "Ah well, I was inspired by the way your claws look naturally! They shine oh so wonderfully in the light. Red really suits you, you know."
He said nothing, except a hum and you resumed your work.
After the end of the little self-care day you'd arranged, you could see everyone look quite happy and relaxed. You smiled. You felt that you had accomplished something great and contributed to the smooth running of this establishment.
While you were feeling satisfied with yourself, you heard a pop behind you and there stood Alastor, with his newly painted claws.
"Hi! Do you like how it looks?" you asked.
"It is wonderful, my dear. I quite like the color. Thank you for indulging me," he replied, putting his hand on your shoulder.
Your face turned red under his gaze as you quickly looked away, "You know me, always up for helping my friends! Well, you must be busy. Let me not hold you up for long, byeeeee." Saying this, you rushed out of the lobby, away from his sight.
Alastor's mind lingered on one little thing you said.
"Friend...," he wondered loudly. He quite liked the sound of that.
A/N: Sorry for taking so long to reply to this. I hope you enjoy it!
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eee-lordy · 3 months
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Make It Up
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Jacob comes home from filming to comfort his increasingly insecure girlfriend. 1k
───※ ·❆· ※───
Jacob had been away long enough for you to feel the impact of how alone you really were. Of course, you were glad he was off living his dream. You couldn't have been happier for him, actually.
But Jacob was always good at changing your perspective when he was around. Not that you needed anyone to tell you who to be. But Jacob always knew just what to say. He listened to you, he didn't diminish your feelings, and he was a master at getting you to see your insecurities in a different light, all the while.
But he was gone, and your mind seemed to run a little more frantically each day. As you got ready for work, all the bits about yourself you liked least stared back in the mirror. Nothing you seemed to tell yourself made much of a difference. 
So you just pretended it wasn't happening at all, for a while. When he called, all you focused on how happy he sounded. You let Jacob tell you all about his wonderful time on set and the people he'd gotten to know, your own worries lost as he reminded you of good things.
And when Jacob's film wrapped up, and he and his castmates toured about chatting to press in their Sunday best, you caught bits of one of those interviews on the morning news.
Your boyfriend was absurdly attractive, and he fit right in between equally as pretty actors and directors. You'd usually drool as he lit up the screen, but this time was different. As his castmates all squished together on one big couch you couldn't help but notice how lovely the girl next to Jacob seemed. She had the perfect face, and an even better body and she looked so natural there next to him. Jacob somehow seemed even more handsome when your focus shifted back to his way.
That's who he deserved by his side, you thought. Someone just as beautiful and illuminating as Jacob himself. Not you.
While you went about your week, your insecurity seemed to be bubbling to a boiling point. When Jacob video called, you reached for a sweater before answering, in case any of his beautiful castmates were around to see the poor excuse of a girlfriend he had back home. 
"One more day and we can get back to normal." Jacob sighed, lounging alone in some hotel bed, lily white sheets looking like heaven wrinkled around him.
"Yeah, normal." You shrugged. A glimmer of hope fizzed in your chest at the thought. Your insecurities had never been so intrusive before, so it felt criminal to address them at all. It wasn't Jacob's fault that everyone he worked with was some kind of supermodel. You knew you had to get yourself in check before he got back, tomorrow. Maybe once Jacob was home, he'd distract you from your own thoughts long enough for you to forget them altogether.
That's exactly what you tried to practice as you prepared to see him again. 
When Jacob showed up in the front doorway at long last, the only worry you had was closing the gap between you. He dropped his luggage and lunged in for a kiss. Two Kisses. There, four, five.
"I missed you too." You joked when he pulled away to catch his breath. He laughed before pressing another quick kiss to your cheek and tugging you across the house. His luggage had been abandoned in the entryway as he mentioned something about being utterly exhausted. You followed close behind through the bedroom door, lost in the haze of how giddy you were to have his hand in yours once again.
"I kept dozing off on the plane and dreaming of finally sleeping in my own bed. But I suddenly just want to tell you everything, love." Jacob beamed as you flipped off the bedroom light, leaving a lamp to glow from the corner.
"I won't stop you. I can't wait to hear everything." You assured with a smile. Jacob looked so sleepy, with his droopy dark eyes and slouched shoulders. But his smile was radiant as he went on to tell you some story of the night he and his castmates got kicked out of a bar. 
"We all had such fun. I wish you could've been there, my love." Jacob cooed, crossing the room to start getting ready for bed. He kicked his trousers off toward the hamper as he went on yammering. 
"I absolutely can't wait to take you to all the premier parties and things. I'm dying to show you off."
You'd been circling in search of where you'd left your pj's when you registered what Jacob said. You stopped in your tracks, thanking the heavens that your back was to Jacob as you tried to suppress the sudden wave of insecurity. 
You felt so unimpressive. No, worse. You felt horrid. And all the work you'd done to forget how badly you'd been feeling crumbled as all your self-conscious thoughts bombarded you at once. 
You felt worried to be seen at all, and next to your stone-carved deity of a boyfriend no less. The worst of it was, you knew this was stupid. You knew most of your thinking was skewed, but it didn't stop you from feeling so insecure.
"Babe?" Jacob called from somewhere closer than before. You sucked in a breath, hoping an answer would effortlessly escape afterward. But all you could manage was a frustrated whimper.
"I know it's dumb... but I feel like shit." You explained turning to face Jacob. He had already been looking toward you with a furrowed brow. After you shakily admitted how you'd been feeling, a frown pulled at his lips.
"Huh? You-" He started, shifting a little closer to you. But once you'd given yourself the spotlight, you had to finish explaining yourself before you lost the courage.
"You're like... a fucking statue and you should be out with someone just as beautiful, like one of those pretty little things you fit so well with on the screen. I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you and I'm sorry this is so dumb but-"
"Oh, my love, no. No, listen to me." Jacob took a few steps to meet you in the middle, His deep dark eyes pierced into yours as he tangled both of his hands in your hair.
"You're a vision. You're so beautiful and I want you with me and near me always. I want you." Jacob stressed each word and searched your eyes, and you knew he was sincere. You half expected him to roll his eyes and say something about how sick he was of hearing you complain, like so many of your partners had in the past. But Jacob was different.
"You're too good to me." You spoke, somewhere between feeling genuinely thankful for his abundance of care and feeling completely unworthy of it. 
"You're perfect. Everything about you is exceptional and divine."
Jacob softly gushed all while he took a gentle grasp of your hips to pull you to the bed he walked back towards. As he sat, you settled into his lap without missing a beat, somehow magnetically moving to be close to him. 
"I'm sorry I've been away. I wish I could've spent my days telling you how much I love and adore you. I'm sorry I never say it enough anyway."
"Oh, Jacob." You cooed, searching his starry eyes. "I'm sorry I'm so difficult." You felt moved to sweep up your dramatics. 
"You're not difficult. I happen to find you very easy to adore." Jacob's fingers trailed slowly up your sides while his eyes stayed happily glued on yours. He was so brilliant at making sure you felt comfortable. Content. Wanted.
"Now you're just being ridiculous." You mewled, resting your forehead against his. He couldn't possibly be so full of compliments. He must have just been trying to calm you down.
"It's true my love. You're stunning. Remember that outfit you wore to last year's family Christmas? We were late to the party because I simply couldn't handle how good you looked that night. Nearly had a heart attack. Really! Your beauty takes my breath away to the point of medical emergencies I swear it."
Okay, so maybe Jacob was just as dramatic as you.
"I wore it cause it covered up everything nicely." You rolled your eyes with a small smile at his efforts to make you feel better.
"What's underneath is even nicer, love," He whispered in a soft grit, eyes still locked on yours. You nearly lost yourself in the tender moment.
All you could do was kiss him then, not having to move much, just exchanging a long-lasting peck that made up for all your lost words. 
Jacob kissed you back a little harder, but not by much. Even as things transitioned into something physical, they stayed soft. It seemed Jacob was still communicating with you, gentle taps and touches asking permission to linger longer. You responded in your own way, with sinking closer to him with contented sighs.
Your kisses stayed slow, but steadily grew deeper until you had to part to take a breath.
"I never want to be away so long ever again," Jacob quietly whined as you brought a hand to his pretty face, wondering how you got so lucky in love. 
"How I've missed you." You let a grin blossom to your lips as you realized you didn't have to miss him any longer. Jacob gazed to you with darkened eyes that broke away from yours for the first time to search your face.
"Let me make it up to you, my love?" He asked, the whisper nearly caught in his throat. You quirked a hopeful brow as your hands trailed under his old T-shirt. He tossed it to the ground as you leaned in for another small kiss. Jacob took his time pushing your top away, nipping at your neck and shoulder as you let your shirt fall to the ground.
That's when he secured both strong arms around you, moving to lay you back against the pillows.
He settled on top of you and the weight brought you the encompassing comfort you'd been missing. You trailed a hand across his warm skin, delighted by the feeling. Jacob reached for the waistband of your trousers while he returned to kissing your neck, leaving burning a trail down your throat.
"I love everything about you. I feel so lucky." Jacob sighed, "I am lucky." He nodded with a look to you.
 He went on saying things like that, not just to fill your head, but to drive home how dearly he actually cared for you. He seemed to take account of every bit of you, sending shivers down your spine and even scoring a breathy giggle or two. And when you tried to move on a mission to make sure he was feeling just as lovely as he'd been making you feel, he wouldn't let you. 
Jacob kept a gentle hold on you and made you feel exceptionally wonderful, beautiful and admired. As his touch grew hotter and his hold grew tighter, you decided that so long as Jacob seemed to think you hung the moon, you didn't care about the stars off in the distance. He was the sun that shone light to your darkest parts, and your world was so much better off that way. 
───※ ·❆· ※───
Requests are open ♡
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singingcicadas · 1 month
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Megatron's Opposite Day
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"I free slaves"
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This is Soundwave binding Ratbat but seeing as Megatron did the same thing to Pentius by putting his spark into Trypticon and reformatted Rumble and Frenzy into cassettes against their will I think he approves a lot of this practice
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Megatron on Optimus and humans, after his defeat in All Hail Megatron ⬇️
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he really salty
"I implant ideology" aka brainwashing
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Decepticon cause = Megatron. nuff said.
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"I liberate cities" says the person who let Nyon burn to make a point
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Cities are too small, think bigger
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Holding New York hostage.
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"Like Autobots, they believe in the sanctity of life" which he doesn't. Kudos for being honest.
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Allowing troops to do free-rein massacre is a reward for conquest. Nothing like some easy murder for de-stressing.
The Simanzi massacre which halved the Cybertronian population is off-screen so it doesn't deserve its own pic
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"The revolution"
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"We only feel good when we stand with a blade in one hand and a throat in another" "Let's make the entire face of the planet into our new gladiator arena"
What nice, confidence-inspiring revolutionaries. I'm sure they'll rule the population with benevolence after they've killed all the Necessary People with Necessary Violence. Final interpretation of what constitutes as Necessary is reserved for the sole discretion of Megatron, ofc.
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Good goals.
Sentinel might be an absolute asshole but at least he's got one thing right: they're literally a gang of thugs who gets high off murder.
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"The people are my utmost concern"
'The people': ................
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"Battling for freedom"
Freedom of what? Function? Autonomy?
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Religion?
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the ability to choose whether to fight? on which side to fight?
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Idk why they used the word "pogrom" for this, it's way too specific
Anyways it doesn't matter, they won't be missed.
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Good for Bumblebee for calling him out. Screenshotted this just to appreciate Megatron's bitchy face ⬇️
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Other urban legends:
"Megatron loves Cybertron" let's just burrrrn it
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He did fight to save Cybertron in Chaos Theory but also made it pretty clear why he did it. It's not out of the goodness of his heart or any sentimental reasons like that. It's an ego/dominance thing.
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Plus his wording when he's trying to convince Optimus to let him go with the Lost Light: "I broke the planet. And that, Optimus, is why I owe it to you - to everyone - to find a replacement."
Replacement.
In other words: I made a mess and can't be bothered to clean it up, so I want to get away from it and find somewhere new to start clean.
I don't think Optimus appreciates the favour.
"Megatron tore down a corrupt government" which is true, just too bad that he's worse
He's also, um, a closeted Zeta admirer?
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"Megatron advocates equality" ???
Megatron x dictatorship is literally his OTP. They were inseparable for four million years. A lot of people died trying.
"Megatron cares about the Decepticons" no he doesn't. Not his troops nor its cause.
Like for one thing he treats them with complete scorn
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Admits that the most useful thing about keeping Starscream around is that he can bully underlings into line
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Wants to use the humans' nuke to get rid of his troops and reformat them into peaceful drones after they outlive their use because they were "too ruthless" for his perfect peaceful society
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Has zero scruples about fighting Deceptigod, just affronted that his own soldiers are being used against him
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And basically just drops the Decepticons like a bag of vermin after he surrenders. He never once mentions them of his own accord, other than to insist he has nothing to do with them. Even his surrender speech is something Optimus makes him do as exchange b/c he wants to go on parole. He wasn't planning on making a public address otherwise, he was just going to leave them hanging.
Looking at the publication timeline, Megatron started out as an established Evil McEvilson-type villain similar to how he is in G1 and it's not until Chaos Theory in 2011 that JRo really gave him a sympathetic backstory that drew his characterization away from the bloodthirsty pugno ergo sum warlord into someone who once held ideals about societal reform and remains convinced of his own moral supremacy throughout the 4 mill years of death and war, adding worldbuilding such as Functionism/oppression/government corruption as justification for the beginning of the Decepticon movement. But because the start of the Decepticons was already written in Megatron Origins and every evil thing he'd done up till Chaos Theory can't be retracted and they had to keep Megatron as a villain until his story was no longer central to the Autobot-Decepticon war line, and JRo didn't try to downplay the atrocities he'd committed (some of the most sadistically disturbing things Megatron did were exclusively in MTMTE flashbacks), but rather tried to distance him from them and placed the focus on the juxtapositions to emphasize change, this as a whole just resulted in Evil McEvilson getting turned into Hyper McHypocrite.
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ithebookhoarder · 1 year
Text
En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)
Synopsis: Your husband has always been protective of you, given his line of work. However, when he offers to teach you the basics of self-defence, it quickly becomes clear that his intentions may not be quite so innocent after all... 
Warnings: Mild reference to bodily harm, light smutty behaviour, spoilers for the second film.
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A/N: Oh, how I’ve missed Enola Holmes. I loved the books, and the films are just as great in their own way, so expect a bit of spam for the next few weeks - apologies in advance. 
Masterlist
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“Now, try again-”
“-Sherlock-”
“No. Come on. Focus, darling. Once more, from the beginning. Eyes forward-” 
Oh, that was it. 
You were going to kill your husband. Slowly… and painfully… It would be the least he deserved, torturing you as he was. 
“Call me ‘darling’ one more time, husband,” you warned dangerously, “and see if I don’t shove this sword in your direction.” 
Why you agreed to this in the first place was beyond you, given that the day had so far been much more satisfying for him rather than you. 
After all, it had been Sherlock’s idea to help teach you the basics of self-defence - throwing a punch, dodging one, along with the fundamentals for using weapons such as a pistol, club, and now a sword (although when he thought you’d be in such a position to use one, you weren’t sure). 
Given his profession and the fact that his cases often lead to unplanned consequences, it had seemed a rather sensible idea at the start. His recent run in with the infamous Inspector Grail had rattled him, helpless to protect Enola everyone involved in the case from harm. 
Luckily, they had all survived, if not a little worse for wear - most of which was down to your skilled hands, having sewn, cleaned, and bandaged each and every wound they presented you with following the confrontation. 
You had seen the pain etched into Sherlock’s face that night, as you had helped wipe the blood from Enola’s head where she had been struck. He may have often denied having emotions, but the brotherly love and concern was all too clear to you as he seemed to blame himself somehow for failing to protect her. 
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So, now, Sherlock was determined to equip you with the tools you may need should a similar situation ever arise. It made it an easy yes, to agree to his tutelage in the hopes of soothing both his and your concerns. That, and dare you even say it sounded like fun? 
Well, fun for you, yes, but evidently even more fun for your husband as it turned out.
Indeed, Sherlock was certainly a ‘hands-on’ kind of teacher and it had become clear early on that his focus was not entirely on developing your skills in combat. You didn’t have to be the detective to notice how his hands kept drifting to places they didn’t belong, or that his eyes seemed to be capitalising on the opportunity to observe your form in tight trousers as you lunged about the room. 
And that wasn’t the worst of it - in fact, for the past half an hour, he had been standing behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one of his hands covering yours as it gripped the hilt of the sword - or the foil, as he had informed you. 
As for the other, it was rather distracting, pressed against your stomach so as to allow your husband to correct your stance… or so he claimed, as he pulled you closer once again. 
“That’s it,” you huffed, trying and failing to ignore the sudden shiver that ran down your spine as he ground against you. “You are certainly having too much fun. Perhaps I should have asked Enola or Edith to be my tutor instead. At least they can be trusted to remain professional.” 
He scoffed, not sounding the least bit ashamed at the accusation.
“You wound me, wife,” he murmured, his lips grazing against your cheek, “After all, was it not you who said you didn’t wish to be a ‘maiden in need of rescuing’ should anyone wish you harm?”
“You know that I am neither a maiden, nor in need of rescuing, Mr Holmes.” Turning your head, you were quick to return the favour, letting your lips graze his teasingly. His soft groan was enough of a sign that your efforts appeared to be working. 
Two could play this game. 
“In fact, the only person I seem to need rescuing from right now is you, and your wandering hands.” 
You felt his laughter shaking through him, making it hard not to laugh yourself as he began peppering kisses to your neck. 
Clearly your lesson in swordplay would have to wait; it appeared he had a different kind of physical activity planned for you both. 
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riiwrites · 4 months
Text
boyfriend!chuuya who…
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a/n : i’ve decided to make this into a series so please suggest who you’d like to see next :)
a/n : i tried to make this one gender neutral but it’s more hinted towards female reader as it’s mentioned when they first meet, but you can always just skip to the boyfriend part as always
warnings : stormbringer spoilers(?), mentions of insecurity
dazais version | atsushis version
masterlist | taglist | main page
dividers belong to @/benkeibear !
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pre-boyfriend!chuuya who saved you when some scumbag from town took your purse/bag.
pre-boyfriend!chuuya who wasn’t even on duty that day and was browsing through town until he saw a very distressed you.
pre-boyfriend!chuuya who’s heart does a little flip when he sees you look up at him with tear filled eyes and a kind smile to say ‘thank you’ for retrieving your belongings and that you’re his hero.
pre-boyfriend!chuuya who’s eyes widen as he coughs a bit awkwardly and averts his gaze before saying..
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“Ah, uhm..don’t worry about it. Damn bastards like that don’ even deserve to be near the presence of a woman.” He says, slowly averting his gaze back to your glossy eyes. God, why was his stomach doing even more flips than he could ever imagine?
Your smile only grows wider as you reach into your once stolen purse/bag and pull out your phone, unlocking it and holding it out to him. He looks at it for a few moments before you speak.
“Let me make it up to you, next time I’m in town we’ll go out for a drink, it’s the least I could do.”
And to his own surprise, he reluctantly accepts, taking your phone and putting his phone number in, handing it back to you.
As if your smile could grow any bigger, it does.
“Chuuya, huh? I’ll see you around.”
As you turn around and walk away with his number saved, he stares at you from afar as you become a blur in the distance. He doesn’t know why he felt what he felt to someone random so fast, but he knew one thing. He needed to see that smile again.
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pre-boyfriend!chuuya who low-key keeps checking his phone every now and again to wait for your text, eyes widening slightly as he sees you have.
pre-boyfriend!chuuya who can’t help but let out a little smirk and chuckle as he reads your texts.
pre-boyfriend!chuuya who finally takes you out on a few dates and by the third one, you’re finally his.
boyfriend!chuuya who doesn’t do much physical touch at first, wanting to be respectful.
boyfriend!chuuya who begins to wrap his arm around your waist or shoulder in public when you give him the green light.
boyfriend!chuuya who has his hand on your thigh when you’re sitting down.
boyfriend!chuuya who holds your hand and does the thumb thing.
boyfriend!chuuya who never initiates affection unless it’s hand holding or waist holding because he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but if you wanted that he’d give you what you want.
boyfriend!chuuya who holds your cheek in his palm and strokes your tears away when you’re crying.
boyfriend!chuuya who gives your hand a reassuring squeeze when you’re anxious in public or in general.
boyfriend!chuuya who likes to take you out to fancy dinners, not all the time but on occasions.
boyfriend!chuuya who separates his work life from his love life, so you don’t become a target.
boyfriend!chuuya who wishes the flags were here to meet you.
boyfriend!chuuya who picks you up from any place during night, forcing you to wait there as he doesn’t want you to walk home yourself.
boyfriend!chuuya who trusts you to go out by yourself and do what you want as long as you’re not in danger, but would like a checkup every few hours.
boyfriend!chuuya who doesn’t judge you for what you wear, thinks it’s his choice and whoever has a problem can take it up with him.
boyfriend!chuuya who doesn’t care because he knows how to fight.
boyfriend!chuuya who kisses your knuckles as a greeting when he sees you.
boyfriend!chuuya who cleans your apartment/house for you for when you come back home.
boyfriend!chuuya who dates to marry
boyfriend!chuuya who never lets either one of you go to bed angry or upset.
boyfriend!chuuya who actually talks it out and wants you to speak to him when somethings wrong.
boyfriend!chuuya who always takes you drinking with him, having you try different ones to pick the best choice.
boyfriend!chuuya who keeps in mind which one is your favourite as it is now his go to drink.
boyfriend!chuuya who’s favourite sign of affection is kisses.
boyfriend!chuuya who rests his chin on the top of your head when sleeping.
boyfriend!chuuya who buys you a expensive and specific perfume so that he can remember your scent.
boyfriend!chuuya who always gets you flowers when you go on a date, it’s a must.
boyfriend!chuuya who lets you sit on his lap whilst he does work, resting his chin on top of the top of your head as he scribbles away.
boyfriend!chuuya who easily carries you when you’re too tired to walk or if you’re about to step in mud or a puddle.
boyfriend!chuuya who puts his jacket on the concrete floor so you can step on it just so you don’t get your shoes dirty.
boyfriend!chuuya who can read you like an open book, instantly noticing you’re upset.
boyfriend!chuuya who kisses your insecurities.
You were in the changing room with him as you were trying on different clothes, him with a slight smile and you with a very noticeable frown. Chuuya can’t help but notice as he also reflects your expression, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your stomach, peering over your shoulder.
“What’s wrong, doll?” He asks, clear concern evident in his voice and on his face.
“I just..” You start, unable to finish your next few words.
“You just..?”
“Feel so ugly..” You mumble.
Chuuyas expression shifts to a concerned look to a rather confused one, furrowing his eyebrows as he fully turns you around by the shoulders to face him.
“Don’t say that shit ever again.” He says sternly, noticing the way your bottom lip wobbles and your eyes become glossy once again. He takes your hand in his and begins kissing your knuckles, then kissing up your arm, then to your neck and then to your face. He kisses your nose before pulling away.
“Do you even know how much I love this damn face?” He begins, kissing your two cheeks and chin as you begin giggling, sniffling as tears stroll down your cheeks like a gentle waterfall.
“I can’t even begin to talk about how much I’m in love with this perfect face and body. Sometimes, i don’t understand why you’d wanna go for a guy like me..” He finishes, smiling comfortingly as he strokes your hair as you cry softly with a sweet smile on your face.
“I-..I love you, Chuuya..”
He pauses, his smile fading as his expression becomes surprised, but then his face lighting up as he picks you up and spins you around the small cubicle, you squealing.
“And I love ya too damn much.”
boyfriend!chuuya who realises after that he’s head over heels for you.
boyfriend!chuuya who talks about you to Kouyou, wanting to know how he can make you the happiest.
boyfriend!chuuya who believes you deserve the world, so he’s gonna give you it.
boyfriend!chuuya who in a world full of boys.. - he’s a gentleman. ❤︎︎
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TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @mackereland-slug @heartsfourdazai @iratherowan @onlinewhisper14 @nomnomventi @silverbladexyz @inojuuy @boarcide @poedostoevsky11 @kissesmellow21 @star-light18464 @aliyahgracedrawing @chuuyathehatrack @boredwithwrath @akutagawasimp87 @rainy-dazie @lone-ray @ishqani @fun-cats @wefureko-blog @hoicacti @endy917 @dazaiiiosamuu @seikkoh
white = unable to be tagged :(
@/riiwrites reblogs are always appreciated ❤︎︎
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bruisedboys · 3 months
Note
please write for tmr!thomas i beg of you
tmr!thomas x reader | established relationship, fluff and hurt/comfort, 1k words (set in the scorch trials!)
you, thomas and your friends find sanctuary from the scorch with the right arm. unfortunately, they don’t provide any sanctuary from nightmares.
“Are you awake?”
Thomas feels you shift under his arm. You’re curled into his side, arm slung over his chest and thigh pressed to his. He hums.
“Yeah, I’m awake,” he murmurs back. “What’s up?”
He feels your hand glide across his stomach and your fingers curl around his hip. It makes him shiver.
“Nothing,” you hum. “Just thinking.”
Thomas huffs. Typical you, keeping yourself awake for no good reason. “Stop thinking and go to sleep then, sweetheart. You need rest.”
You muffle a giggle in his shirt. It warms his chest all the way through. “You’re mean.”
“And you’re keeping me up,” Thomas says back, only half serious. “Go to sleep.”
Eventually you do as he says. These days Thomas always always has waits for you to fall asleep first before letting himself drift off. It makes him feel better about himself. He does everything in his power to make sure you’re safe and healthy and happy, but it’s hard when you’re on your own in a sick world, running from a government organisation that wants you for your blood.
The Scorch has been unforgiving, but you’ve braved through like you always do, never once complaining, always making sure the rest of the group are okay. Thomas thinks someone as lovely as you doesn’t deserve to live in a world like this. It’s half the reason he’s as determined as he is the find somewhere safe.
Well, you’ve found sanctuary for now, at least, with the Right Arm. You and Thomas are sharing a tent with the rest of the group — Minho, Newt, Frypan — none of whom seem to be willing to seperate from each other, despite the spare tents the Right Arm offers. It speaks volumes about where the real safety net is.
Eventually Thomas falls asleep too. He’s not sure how long he sleeps until he’s woken by you. You don’t mean to wake him, he thinks, but he’s a bad sleeper at the best of times, and he’s got a sixth sense for this kind of thing, anyway.
He blinks his eyes open sluggishly. It’s dark, but the campfire still flickers outside the tent, so he can just make out your figure. You’re sitting up straight, stiff as a board. Panic slices through his heart like a cold knife.
“Y/N?” He murmurs. He finds your thigh under the sleeping bag you’re sharing and braces his hand on it to help him sit up. “Baby, are you okay?”
Thomas’ eyes slowly adjust to the light until he realises, with a pang in his chest, that you’re crying. Thankfully, you don’t seem to be in any immediate danger. Everyone else is still fast asleep, and everything’s quiet outside the tent. Still, he doesn’t like the way your shoulders are shaking.
“Sorry,” you gasp. You’re holding your face in two clammy hands, fingers cruel where you scrub at your tears. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I just—“
“Bad dream?” Thomas asks gently. He can guess well enough. He’s had his fair share, and while he’s not an expert on the human mind or anything, he can see that you’re pretty shaken up.
You nod. Tears splash down your front. “Yeah,” you mumble. “Sorry.”
Thomas frowns at you as he brings his hand to your shoulder.
“Stop apologising,” he says, squeezing you gently. His drags his thumb across your collarbone, soothing. He doesnt want to think about what you’d’ve done if he hadn’t woken up. Would you have suffered all by yourself? The thought alone feels like a bullet to his heart. “It’s okay, babe, really. Can I give you a hug?”
You nod viciously. Thomas makes a pitying sound from deep in his chest and wraps you up in a hug, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck to encourage your head over his shoulder. You’re shaking like a leaf, your cheek damp and warm where it presses to his neck.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs to you. It’s all he can say, really. He can’t tell you it wasn’t real, because the chances that you had dreamed about something very real, and equally horrifying, are high. He strokes your hair, feeling a little useless but a lot sorry. “I’ve got you.”
Somebody stirs across the tent. Thomas watches over your shoulder as that somebody sits up.
“Thomas?” It’s Newt. His voice is raspy with sleep but he sounds concerned. “Is everything okay?”
Thomas feels something akin to a rush of gratitude for his empathetic friend. If anything was ever to happen to Thomas, he at least knows for certain Newt would take care of you.
“Yeah, Newt,” he says. “Everything’s fine. We’re good. Just a nightmare, I’ve got it.”
Newt hums and his lanky figure drops back to the tent floor. Meanwhile you’re sniffling over Thomas’ shoulder, your hands screwed into the back of his shirt.
Thomas can’t be sure if Newt’s still awake, but he doesn’t really care if his friend hears him or not. He’s past being embarrassed about how much he cares for you. Thomas draws back and takes your face in his hands.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks you.
“Not really,” you whisper back. Your anguished tone breaks Thomas’ heart clean in two.
“Okay. That’s alright,” Thomas tells you, as kind as he can when he’s up to his ears with worry. He swipes his thumbs over your cheeks, rubbing away your hot tears. He gives you a reassuring smile. “Do you want some water?”
You nod. Thomas reaches behind him to pull his metal flask from a meagre pile of supplies. He unscrews the lid and encourages the bottle into your hands.
“Here, babe,” he says softly. “It’ll help.”
He steadies your shaking hands with his own and helps you have a few gulps of water. When he returns the bottle to it’s place you’ve calmed significantly. Your cheeks are still damp and sticky but your tears have ebbed, at least.
Thomas smiles at you. He’s sure he looks sick with concern but he tries not to let it show, thumbing your cheek with as much tenderness as he can manage. “Let’s lie down, yeah? C’mon, sweetheart.”
He tugs you down with him. You slump onto his chest and push your hand under his shirt. You’re really warm, but it gives him goosebumps anyway.
“You’re safe with me,” he promises. It’s a promise he doesn’t plan on breaking, ever. He rubs your back. Big, rough sweeps that have you going lax in his arms almost instantaneously. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I promise.”
-
thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, and feel free to send more reqs for thomas!
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