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redr0sewrites · 2 months

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Sick!Hazbin Hotel x Reader Hcs

i love reverse comfort sm. im also currently being brutally murdered by allergies but i prefer comforting others so here we are

🥀 Cw: fluff, crack, teensy bit of angst with comfort

🥀 Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, Alastor x reader, Vox x reader, Adam x reader

Lucifer:

sick? him? please, the king of hell doesn't get sick!

thats what he claims anyways

lucifer brushes nearly everything off as just plain allergies, he could literally have a 103 fever and be shaking on the floor and would still be pouting and saying he's fine

the thing about him tho is that he's easy to take care of- after a little coaxing lucifer just sighs and nods glumly before pretty much submitting himself to your care

once he's admitted hes sick tho, he wants you around him 24/7

lucifer wants cuddles, hugs, kisses, he just gets so clingy when he's feeling under the weather

THIS MAN LITERALLY BURNS UP WHEN HE'S SICK ITS ALWAYS THE LITTLE ONES WITH THE HIGHEST RAGING FEVERS THAT LAST FOR DAYS like he'll be sweating and shivering and crying he gets hit HARD when he's sick and it happens so suddenly too- like one day he's fine and then the next he looks like he's one small wind away from collapsing

he lowkey feels bad about asking for things when he's sick so he'll say something offhand like "yk im in the mood for soup" and hopes you get the message

ABSOLUTELY THE TYPE TO GET FEVER DREAMS AND START RAMBLING WHEN HES SICK

like he'll wake up from a nap and still be half asleep and he just starts genuinely rambling about literally the most obscure things

lucifer definitely gets nightmares even when he isn't sick, but when hes feeling like shit and is so delirious he can't tell reality from fiction? be prepared for him to wake up crying and shaking, he just gets so so scared :(

lucifer feels bad about you taking care of him and wants to help, but will lowkey end up pushing himself too hard. PLEASE reassure him and tell him it's alright he'll literally melt

once its all over, lucifer will genuinely trust you more after you saw him in such a vulnerable state and is much more likely to come to you instead of hiding how he's feeling in the future

Alastor:

alastor? weak? lmao no

he would literally rather die than admit he's sick like he would literally just keep pushing on

alastor is one of those people that has an iron immune system like he VERY rarely gets sick but when he does its like torture

to even be alastor's partner you'd have to know him for a long time and you'd probably be able to read him pretty well (at least compared to other people), yet even you sometimes miss his sickness in the earlier stages

alastors biggest tell tale sign of being sick? exhaustion. he very rarely sleeps on the regular, but when he's sick that all catches up to him

he also gets more irritable and a little less composed, he'd be more prone to getting angry and would lash out if anyone asked if he was ok

alastors ears would also be turned back slightly, like most animals do when they're being aggressive, but its pretty much only obvious to people who know him closely

alastor never wants to be vulnerable or weak but you notice that his eyelids keep drifting of their own accord, and how irritable he's been, and it clicks to you that he's obviously not feeling well

approach him about it in private, while alastor does trust you he still doesn't want others to knowm

no matter how much you try he will not lay down, take medicine, or do anything (at least at first)

alastor genuinely thinks that he can just push through on his own and lowkey thinks you're worrying too much

however after two weeks of pure suffering and exhaustion, combined with no sleep and your irritation at his lack of will to take care of himself, alastor finally breaks

he'd prob come to your room at like 4 in the morning and just curl up on the edge of the bed, shivering a little but staying quiet

you wake up to him fast asleep, his ears twitching every once and a while as he rests peacefully near you

get a cool towel and lay it on his forehead to break the fever, and he'll just keep sleeping

he probably wouldn't wake up for at least a few hours, months of lost sleep are catching up to him at this point, giving you the opportunity to make him some soup and medicine

alastor will stir a little when you get out of bed but wont wake up, but once he does wake up he wants you to come back

when he's sick he wants you to be nearby, alastor isn't the touchiest person and being sick makes him feel gross, so he wouldn't want to be touched but would want you arround just to know you're there

this is probably the first step in him being more open to vulnerability around you, and while it may have been a bit of an irritating process to get him back to his usual healthy status, it's definitely worth it as he begins to trust you more

Vox:

lowkey a man child (affectionate)

vox is one of those guys who will take care of himself when he's sick, but he'll complain about it every step of the way

i think he's pretty responsible when he's sick, he'll take the day off and relax but won't do much other than that

he likes when you pamper him though, and a part of him lowkey enjoys being sick because he just gets to have your full attention all of the time (as if he doesn't already💀)

vox would be irritated about showing weakness and not being in control, but he wouldn't be irritated at you

if an employee was being too nosy about his wellbeing? yea he's pissed but if you're the one taking care of him, he'll just sigh and let you do what you want

VOX IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHOS LITERALLY ALWAYS COLD AND ITS AMPLIFIED WHEN HES SICK

he becomes like a literal ice cube he's SHIVERING and everything

vox has the cutest sneezes too, he glitches out and denies how cute his sneezes are but they really are adorable

vox takes like 2 baths per day when he's sick he hates feeling unclean, and def wants you to join him in the bath (just to relax, get your mind out of the gutter)

vox would be a little pissed about missing work, i think he's a bit of a workaholic and might try to work in bed or sneak some paperwork behind your back

it doesn't work though because he just ends up passing out anyway

vox is big on sleeping when he's sick he's definitely the type to just sleep it off and thats that

like he CRASHES in bed and just does not get up for hours

he sleeps like the dead too, his screen is blank and he barely moves in his sleep

like lucifer, he has fever dreams but they lean more on the weird side rather than the sad side

its funny but instead of talking more when sick, vox actually talks much less. he starts getting super quiet and a lot more needy for your attention

vox is more than happy to return to work and be back on his feet, but will send you a little thank you gift and pamper you in return for taking care of him

Adam:

manchild x2 (also affectionate)

adam DREADS getting sick like he genuinely hates it so much, he sees it as one of his own flaws and it makes him lowkey disgusted at himself

he whines like a baby over a common cold, its almost sad how the slightest sickness will make him act like he's on his death bed

adam whines and complains whenever you aren't around him, he wants cuddles and kisses and is 10x more clingy when he's sick

he has little to no appetite when he's actually sick but gets a huge appetite right after

like you'll have to force him to eat at least a piece of toast per day while he's actually feverish but once he's in recovery he's literally FAMISHED and will ask for so much food

he barely eats or drinks while hes sick it just feels icky to him

i also think he's the type to not want to move like he just collapses on his bed and barely moves an inch (unless you force him)

adam exaggerates when he's barely sick and then underplays it when he's genuinely really sick its lowkey so confusing

like he could have pneuomonia and be half dead and say he's fine but he could have the most common cold and complain foreverrr

he doesn't think you're genuine when you say you want to help him and take care of him, he thinks its just a joke since nobody has ever really taken care of him before

like sure he's been told what to do and bossed around and treated him like a foolish child, but no one has ever sat with him while he's sick and held his hand yk?

while he can be irritable and annoying while he's sick, he apologizes afterwards

its one of the few times he ever apologizes but he genuinely feels bad about lashing out

adam isn't used to being below someone when it comes to status or health and relaxing and letting someone else take care of him is kind of foreign for him, but you both work it out over time

while he isn't the easiest to take care of, he genuinely appreciates that you want to help him and wants to return the favor someday

I WILL MAKE A PT 2 OF THIS WITH MORE FEM CHARACTERS OR WITH HELLUVA BOSS CHARACTERS BUT I DIDNT WANT TO CROWD UP THIS POST TOO MUCH!!!!! ALSO SORRY FOR ANY SPELLING MISTAKES I WROTE THIS WHILE HALF ASLEEP ♥️ HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS TEEHEE

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janitorhutcherson · 5 months

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bedtime with mike and abby ( mike schmidt x reader)

hi guys! this is my first ever lil fic/imagine/blurb here!! if y'all like this, I'll keep it up. I'm also new to tumblr, so please please be patient with me. in the future i'd love to do requests.

also if someone wants to help me with formatting/be friends, just shoot me a msg :p

this is just a quick lil imagine/blurb. I've seen so many smutty fics and i wanted to spice it up w/ some fluff. just sleepy time on mike's night off! on w the fic :p

*edit* this isn’t revised!! i threw something together last min and posted cause i felt like writing lol. don’t mind the typos

word count: 1,633

warnings: none! just fluff, angst if u squint!!

summary: nighttime with mike and abby on his day off!

Most of the time, you, your boyfriend Mike, and his little sister Abby were on entirely different schedules. Mike worked nights at a shitty gas station job for the time being after his job at Freddy's was... well.. no more for obvious reasons. Even though he swore off the night shift, this was necessary until he could find something better. Jobs were sparse at the moment, and Mike's history didn't exactly make him a star candidate.

A typical night would consist of you making the three of you dinner, slowly forcing Abby to venture out when it came to her taste buds. Recently, she'd taken a liking to tacos. You and Mike would make a joint effort to get her ready for bed earlier together, as Mike was more particular about being there for her since the incident. She'd get a bath, get into her jammies, and the two of you would tuck her in with a bedtime story. You'd both kiss her little forehead goodnight, then kiss your boyfriend on his lips before sending him off.

Most nights, you tossed and turned in your sleep, unable to rest properly without Mike by your side. A painfully dull feeling would rest in your stomach, the lack of his warmth beside you agonizing. You'd spend all night waiting for 6am to roll around as you felt the bed dip on his side, barely stirring you from your sleep. You'd have thirty minutes until your alarm went off, thirty minutes to wrap yourself up into him before you once again went on your separate ways... living your separate lives until you could have your few hours of union later on.

But tonight, you were lucky. Mike had gotten the next few days off. His job was being extra kind as they actually recognized the hard work Mike put in, something he wasn't used to. They'd told him someone would take over for a bit, to enjoy himself, to rest. It may have been a low-paying, trashy, borderline dangerous job, but his boss was nice, and the customers were certainly safer to deal with than those at the pizzeria.

You called out sick from work, not wanting to miss a single second with your little trio. You'd both even made the decision to pull Abby out of school for the day, spending it building forts, watching movies, and eating ice cream. The three of you even went out rollerskating, Mike awkwardly tumbling every few seconds on the rink as Abby would bust out laughing at him. The three of you were now sat around on the couch, Mike smooshed into the far side of the armrest as your entire body lay on his, Abby's head resting in your lap as she sleepily blinked her eyes. She'd already had her bath, brushed her teeth, and all three of you were in your pajamas.

"So, everyone have a good day?" Mike asked, turning his head to the two of you with a small but sleepy smile.

"Mhm," Abby hummed quietly, slowly nodding her head against your lap. It was clear that she was moments from passing out, and once Abby was out, she was impossible to get up without a fight.

"Okay, I think it's time for bed," you giggled, slowly lifting your own head up from Mike's shoulder. Mike nodded in agreement, a laugh of his own escaping his lips.

You both slowly pulled Abby up, getting her up on her feet, her half asleep state making her delirious as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, staring back at the two of you in confusion.

"C'mon, Abs, it's time for bed," Mike muttered, standing up. He grabbed your hand, pulling you up with him. You stood as well, following Mike as he led Abby to her room. She crawled up into her bed, her little body tucking under her blankets as the two of you sat on both sides of her.

"Want a bedtime story?" Mike asked, raising his eyebrows as he leaned down to press a small kiss to Abby's forehead. Abby's lips parted to answer, but before she could, her eyes were closed and she was out. A sincere and quiet chuckle escaped underneath Mike's breath, his eyes full of love for his sister as her stared down at her. You couldn't help but stare, the edges of your mouth turning up into a sleepy smile of your own. He was so majestic, his messy but soft brown curls were laying in every which way on his head. Even though he was much more rested than usual, his eyes were still somewhat sunken in, but to you, that just made him more attractive. His scruff was messy, unshaven, but it managed to highlight his jawline. The sparkle that remained in his eyes, even through it all, after everything that he'd been through, warmed you to your core, your love for him overwhelming.

"What?" Mike asked quietly with a smile still plastered on his lips, his eyes now locked on yours. A blush crossed your cheeks as you realize you’d been caught, your eyebrows raising.

“Nothin’,” you hummed, shaking your head. “Just admiring you.” Your hand reached out to his as the two of you went to your own bedroom, the only light now lighting up your house being the moonlight and street lamps peeking through the blinds. You both crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over your bodies.

There was nothing but silence other than the sound of the fan in your room, the hum almost hypnotic as you wrapped yourself up in his arms. Your head rest against his chest as he instantly tugged you closer, his back flat on the bed as his hand cradled your side. His thumb drew small figure eights on your shoulder. Your body felt fuzzy, a type of relaxation you hadn’t felt at night in a while. Mike made you feel safe. On nights where you two were able to just snuggle up, nothing could buzz in your mind. Anxious thoughts disappeared, even the ones that seemed to be a constant in the back of your brain. There was nothing but a warmness in your mind and a beam of love in your heart.

“Hey, baby?” You heard Mike ask softly, his voice cracking from his sleepiness. You were broken from your train of thought by this, looking up at the man with the sleepy eyes. “Hm?” You hummed in response, your eyes fluttering, but he couldn’t see due to the lack of light. Mike sat up, pulling you up with him as he grabbed your hands, both of your faces now lit up by the light peeking through the cracks in your curtain.

“I- I know we don’t get nights like these much, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m never home, I’m sorry you have to do so much for you and Abby alone. I’m sorry I dragged you into that mess with Freddy’s, got you involved in so much of this,” he said, his voice seeping with sadness and regret. His eyes held an even softer emotion than they did earlier, one that felt like a knife to your chest. “Most importantly, I’m sorry I can’t be the boyfriend I should be. I mean, we should be spending our nights out at clubs, going out on special dates and vacations, and I hate that I’m unable to give you that,” he sniffled, a tear now falling down his eye.

You leaned forward, a frown on your lips as your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes locked on his as you placed your hand on his cheek, wiping away the tear with your thumb as you shook your head. Mike’s own two much larger hands were now placed on both of your cheeks as he continued. “But listen, Y/N, I love you, more than I have ever loved anyone, okay? I- I’m not good at this shit, I know I’m not. I’m clumsy and I’m bad at emotions. I don’t always know what I want or what I need, but I know I don’t only want you, but I need you. You came into my life and you brightened it where it was the darkest. You brought happiness back, you made me understand what joy was again, what it was like to feel.. complete. You saved me, but..” he trailed off again, full on tears falling down his cheeks now. “Most importantly, you saved Abby, made her feel whole again too, gave her somethin’ like a mother, something I couldn’t give her,” he said, his voice breaking at the end. Before he could say another word, you wrapped around arms around him, pulling him into a massive bear hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, your mind not even focused on the salty tears and the snotty nose that was leaned up against your shoulder. Your hands rubbing his back as you kissed the top of his head.

“Oh, baby..” you whispered softly, squeezing him like if you let go he’d disappear. “You know I love you so much too…” you finished, pulling his face up by his chin, pressing a soft, gentle but electric kiss to his lips. The two of you then settled back into bed, curling up in each other’s arms as he played with your hair, occasionally leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, small sniffles still leaving his nose from the emotional moment. He was right, it was rare you got moments like these together, but when you did, you cherished them. It took about thirty minutes of sweet nothings and cuddles before the two of you drifted off, in your own little dream worlds filled with many nights like these.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #michael schmidt #michael schmidt x reader

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stairain · 11 months

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Staying Up.

You're peacefully sleeping when Spencer comes home needy for you, but you're more than happy to let him use you.

Warnings: Slighty Sub Spencer, fluffy, almost somnophilia, praise, pet names, thigh fucking.

WC: 2K

It's about 2 AM when you're woken up by the sound of the door opening and floorboards creaking under Spencer's feet. You wouldn't consider yourself a light sleeper, but you had been awaiting his return for hours now.

When you hear him slowly walk over to his side of the bed, you turn your body slightly to look at him through the dark room. You show him a soft smile and speak lowly.

"Welcome back, Spence.."

He looks at you in the dark, a soft smile growing on his face. He walks over, setting his work bag on the ground next to the bedside table.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, taking your hand in his. His touch is just as soft as you expected and hoped for, and his hand is warm. Leaning in, he kisses your cheek, and then lightly whispers.

"Did I wake you, honey? I’m sorry."

He brushes a small piece of fallen hair out of your face, and you shake your head with a groggy smile and lift the edge of the blanket up, as if to invite him in next to you. He smiles, and takes the hint. After he slots himself next to you under the covers, he’s moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around your body. He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, pressing his body against yours.

"I missed you."

His voice is hushed and genuine, and you let out a soft moan of contentment as the warmth of his chest blooms against yours. You lean forward into his touch as your eyes start to grow heavy again.

"Missed you too, Spence."

Spencer’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer to him. After a moment, he leans down and kisses your forehead.

"I love you."

A shudder runs up your spine to your shoulders as the onslaught of kisses slowly dragged you out of your almost slumber. You bite your lip when he doesn't stop kissing your face.

"I love you too.." Your voice is barely a whisper as you rasp out.

His voice is no louder than a whisper, but his tone is one that's soft and full of love and affection.

"You can go back to sleep, love. I just really missed you." He kisses you once more, just taking in the comfort and presence of the one he loves.

Your eyelashes flutter over your heavy eyelids, and you push your body closer into his. His lazy kisses and his soft touches were turning you on, despite being so tired. And it was clear he wanted you too, but he was always a bit shy when it came to these kinds of things.

"I-I can stay up.."

Spencer laughs softly, and starts to run his hand over your back. His kisses move slowly from your neck up to your jaw, and then to your lips. His kisses are sweet and loving, as he lightly sighs against your mouth. He makes a quiet, contented noise, before going back to kissing your neck.

From between your legs, you can feel the way his cock slowly fills in his pants, and you lightly press your knee against it, as if to tease him. First thing he feels when he comes home after a long day of work is needy.

When he feels your leg touch his growing erection, a warm blush flushes across his cheeks and he pulls away from you with a bashful look on his face. He looks as if he’s been caught doing something he’s not supposed to, and he clears his throat before speaking.

“I-I’m sorry. I can go to the guest room a-and sort things out. Get some sleep, baby.”

Even through the darkened room around you, you can still feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off his cheeks. As you feel the warmth of his body slowly die when he starts to get up, you let out a soft whine and tiredly pull him back down by his shirt. Your words are slurred, but he understands you.

“Stay. Y’can use me, Spence..”

Your eyes stay open long enough to see how his widen almost immediately as you finish your sentence. It felt wrong to indulge in you right now. You had to be delirious from a lack of sleep to be speaking like this. He shakes his head and his mouth goes dry as he goes to open it, and a short breath comes out first before he speaks.

“N-No.. No, baby it’s alright. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Spencer leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, and this time you pull him even harder down to you, and it nearly has him toppling over you. His breath hitches and he swallows, looking down at your relaxed state.

You looked so beautiful, so peaceful, and you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He swallowed as he pushed any left over guilt inside of him aside as the desire inside of him burned hotter and hotter with each moment with you that passed.

He nodded, more to himself than you, as he slowly lowered himself back into bed with you. Your eyes were practically shut at this point, but you were still awake. Drifting in and out of sleep as you awaited his touch on you.

The man reached his hands around your body to carefully turn you around, so your back was turned to him. If you were present enough, you would’ve whined and told him you wanted to see his face, but instead you just let him do whatever he needed to you.

You were there for him to use, even if he felt ashamed to be using you like this when you were barely conscious, but you were more than alright with it. Knowing he was so needy for you that he couldn’t wait until you were fully awake, knowing that he was probably thinking about you all day, made your panties quickly grow damp.

The sound of his belt coming undone and the teeth of his zipper being pulled apart ring through your ears as you push your ass back against him, to which he moans softly when you bump against his clothed cock.

He clumsily pulls his member through the opening of his pants and presses his chest against your back, sighing quietly into your ear. You crane your neck back a bit against his shoulder and smile lazily when he presses a tender kiss to the side of your temple.

His eyes are closed as he slowly slides his hard and leaking cock through your plush thighs. You can feel the way his body trembles behind you and the way his sensitive head smears precum all over your skin. All he can think about is how warm everything is.

Your soft flesh surrounding him, your lax shoulders and back, and his breath against your ear, was all warm. He’d shiver from the overwhelming sensations if it weren’t so burning hot between the two of you.

Spencer’s mouth drops open in a groan when you clench your thighs around his cock, and when he pulls back his hips slowly, his eyes roll back into his head.

You felt so good around him, it had him dizzy already, but part of that was because he had been sporting a hard on all day, and wanted nothing more than to make love to you when he got home.

Swallowing, he presses a kiss to your ear before gently muttering to you through your dazed state.

“W-Was thinking about you all day, baby.. Could–fuck–Couldn’t stand up for hours.”

Despite the sensual nature of his words, you couldn’t help the grin that bloomed across your slumber stricken face. You yawn and sigh.

“Tell me about it, Spence..”

He drops his head down to your shoulder and bites his lip when he hears your sweet voice. He loves everything about you so much it’s almost sick. You’re never more beautiful than when you’re like this. You’re vulnerable and you let your guard down around him, and he’s never been more thankful he’s the one you call yours.

“Couldn’t focus on anything but you.. H-Had to read a page six times, kept getting..getting distracted, thinking about you.”

He slides his dick in and out of the makeshift hole he’s made out of your thighs, and with the way he’s dripping his precum all over your skin makes it all the more easier to slip through your legs.

“Hurt–Hurt how much I needed you..”

His voice is low and husky, and most of all desperate. Veiny arms come to wrap around your waist as he continues to thighfuck you, his hands snake around your clothed torso and hold you close to him.

The speed of his thrusts only quicken with each word he murmurs into your ear, but he never stops being gentle with you. The drive of his hips against you is ever so delicate, just how he always treated you. Even with how tight he was holding you against him, his grip was nowhere near bruising.

You felt safe in his arms, so safe you’d let him use you while you’re practically sleeping. The thought makes his heart swell with overwhelming love, knowing just how much you trusted him.

Spencer shakes his head against your shoulder and lifts his head a bit to pant into your ear. A soft sigh leaves your lips in acknowledgement, knowing he wanted to say something.

“I love you.. so so much, baby.. Fuck, thank you, thank you..”

He repeats like a prayer against your skin as his humps become sloppier and more desperate. His pulsing tip catches on the opening of your thighs every time he breaches them and pokes through your legs. The silky flesh of your skin coated in his slick arousal made for a deadly combination, and groans poured from his lips each time he rubbed himself on you.

One of your hands reaches back behind you and holds his head in your palm, pulling him even closer to you as you let out a sigh of your own. You knew he was close, practically had been the second he walked through the door.

“Can.. Can use me anytime you want, Spence.. m’all yours..”

His eyes are glossy as you speak and he shakes his head once more. The sincerity and absolute adoration in your voice was all too much for him all too quickly. He could feel himself gushing small droplets of spend on your flesh and dropped his forehead against your shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Y-You mean it, baby?”

His voice comes out almost as a whimper as he tries to hold back his orgasm for a moment longer, just wanting to hear you say it one more time. As he grinds against you, his movements become slower, but all the more deeper.

You nod and your eyelids fall shut.

“Mean everything I say to you, baby.. Love you so much..”

And with a throaty moan, he pushes his hips as close as he can to your ass and you can feel his tip poking out from between your legs as his entire body stills for a moment. You squeeze your thighs around him even tighter, as if trying to milk him for everything he’s got.

He’s spilling over your skin and the sheets of the bed in an instant. Warm, viscous fluid coats the surface of your thighs and stains the blanket you’ve got draped over the two of you.

Spencer’s eyes go crossed in their sockets and his lips quiver as moan after moan flood your eardrums. The pit that’s been sitting at the bottom of his stomach for a better half of the day finally releases as his orgasm utterly ruins him.

All of the day’s desire that’s been pent up inside of him quickly pours down your legs, and he holds you impossibly closer as a calm slumber of his own finally starts to wash over his blissed form.

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer reid

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lialacleaf · 8 months

Text

To Care For A Woman

Chapter 7

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary: You join the army as a last-ditch effort to avoid destitution, but when you sustain an injury protecting Lieutenant Ghost and earn yourself a medical discharge, you're stuck all over again. Or maybe not...

Warnings: Tension, Simon wants to care for you, small reader, a little bit spicy but not NSFW, man worrying about a woman's safety, typical cannon violence, deception I'm sorry it's unedited...

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

A loud clatter awoke you from a pleasantly deep sleep, and you blinked away the fog slowly. You had a feeling your husband was in the kitchen judging by the lack of a body beside you in bed.

You pulled the covers off and threw on a robe, stuffing your feet into your slippers as you headed for the kitchen.

You poked your head around the corner, watching as Simon leaned against the counter in front of the teapot on the stove.

“Good morning,” you called, pressing against his side and rubbing over his shoulders.

“Mornin’ love.”

Your brow furrowed slightly and you cocked your head at him. “You sound awful,” you mumbled as he stifled a cough.

“M’ fine,” he mumbled as the kettle whistled. He poured himself a cup of tea, trying not to cough as he took a sip.

“Simon,” you scolded in a warning tone, and he eyed you warily.

You’d made a strict agreement with him. No more lies.

“Jus’ a sore throat, I’ll be fine,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You took the opportunity to press the back of your hand against his face, and your eyes widened.

“You’re burning up! Back in bed, now,” you stated firmly, swatting at his arm.

“I’ve gotta work,” he argued, leaning against the counter for support.

You gave him a firm glare and pointed towards the bedroom. “You’re not going anywhere like this, go back to bed.”

Simon groaned, but obliged, setting his half-drunk mug in the sink. “Fine,” he rasped, moving towards the bedroom on unsteady feet.

You rolled your eyes and moved towards the fridge, Moonbeam nuzzling your bag leg as you shuffled around the kitchen. There were a few cloves of garlic left and half a box of chicken broth.

It didn't take long for you to whip up a small home remedy and pour it into a mug. Simon was cocooned in the duvet cover when you returned, and it was an effort not to laugh.

The mighty Ghost, defeated by the common cold.

You were tempted to take a picture to show his teammates, but Simon hated Cameras, especially when he didn't have his mask, and you were feeling gracious enough to not torment your husband while he was ill.

"What're ya smilin' bout' over there?" he asked, eyelids drooping. His accent was thicker and more apparent, and he looked very much as if he was melting into the pillows he'd laid against the headboard.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you whispered with a grin as you held the mug out to him. He frowned deeply, grimacing as he brought it to his nose.

"Cheers," he muttered before downing the drink as quickly as he could, trying to conceal the urge to gag.

Despite his delirious insistence that he was fine, Simon's fever spiked around noon. You weren't exactly sure what to do, questioning if you should take him to the hospital, or try a home remedy to give him some relief.

After a brief call with Dr. Radcliffe, you were instructed to let him burn it out, and settled yourself in bed beside him with a sigh.

At some point Simon had shimmied out of his shirt, his upper body covered in sweat, and you placed the back of your hand on his forehead with a frown.

His head laid in your lap rather limply, and every once in a while he'd let out a soft whine of discomfort. You shook your head in exasperation, stroking your fingers through his hair.

"I swear if you came in contact with some sort of bio-weapon and didn't tell me..." you mumbled softly.

"You think I'd bring something like that home to you?" he croaked out, displaying more awareness than you'd expected from him.

"No," you sighed, stroking the back of his head with your fingertips.

"Exactly," he rasped, and you rolled your eyes.

"Nice to see you're feeling better enough to argue," you teased.

"M' not arguing," he mumbled, eyes barely open.

"You gave him a soft 'mhm' and tucked the covers a little tighter around his body, watching as his eyelids closed. Simon slept soundly to the sensation of your nails running across his back, your touch stopping over the exit wound of a bullet on his shoulder.

You pressed your lips together firmly, remembering the sight of him going down after covering you. Your thumb brushed over the spot delicately, and you closed your eyes.

You wouldn't be here if he hadn't gotten shot. You would probably still be a part of the 141, or you'd be dead if he had simply decided to leave you there.

Still, you couldn't help but feel anxiety gnaw at you now that you weren't out there with him. Did anyone have his back in your place?

You didn't want him to come home in a body bag, but you doubted he'd indulge you in just how risky his work was. You couldn't help but wish there was something you could do to keep him safe.

you let out a deep sigh, allowing yourself to drift off to sleep.

It was dark, and the wind felt like ice as it kissed your skin. You should have been dressed more appropriately for the cold, but you weren't. You were running down the street in an unfamiliar place. The only thing that guided you was the sound of Simon's voice, calling out for you as if his life depended on it.

You pushed past people, the shout of your captain following you in the distance, but you ignored it. You needed to find Simon.

His call eventually led you to an iron gate, and you tore at the chains around the bars in a desperate attempt to get inside.

"Y/N!" there were people chasing you, faces you barely recognized in your delirious state. You thought you saw Johnny, the Captain, even your mother.

"Y/n, there's nothing you can do!"

You climbed over the gate, running after Simon's voice as the wind carried it to you.

You were suddenly running through a graveyard, your eyes searching out a familiar name on the headstones until you found his.

Simon Riley.

"Simon?" you whispered.

A hand shot out from the ground, waving around frantically as if trying to find help.

You threw yourself to your knees, momentarily wondering about the lack of pain in your left leg, as you began to dig at the dirt around the hand with your fingernails.

"Y/n, you've got to leave him, he's not there anymore!"

You felt tears stream down your face as Johnny and Captain Price pulled you away from the grave.

"He's right there! Can't you see him? He's there!" you wailed.

"Look again, y/n," your mother scolded, and suddenly you were looking at a hole in the ground with an empty coffin. "He's just a ghost. That's all he is. Meant to disappear."

You shook your head as tears streamed down your face. No. Simon wasn't just Ghost. He wouldn't disappear, he wouldn't leave-

Your eyes snapped open as your chest rose and fell rapidly. A dream. It had just been a silly dream.

Simon’s fever must have broken during the night, as he was reading a book in bed beside you. He watched as you stared up at him sleepily, and gently brushed some hair out of your face.

"Feeling better?" you asked as you slowly sat up.

"A bit..." he watched you closely, concern written in his expression. "Are you alright?"

You nodded, nuzzling into his side. "Fine. Everything's fine."

AN: I love some angsty foreshadowing ~ I promise this has a happy ending...

Tag List:

@warenai @livynicole @ghostlythots @hilowhiho @mrmountainman @miamia89 @shiraya92 @crocodilefeet2707

@zzariyahchan @gaida-511 @misshoneypaper @soldierlass @dazaiscum @mockerycrow @kaysav608 @classygardencroissantcolor @innerskylover @kristalhi @hotaruteba @tzutology @sushiumex @l3xiluve @immajustlikeok

@iplayghoul @linoskitten11 @zollaris @whore-for-anime @migeuloharaslxt @blog-luvdance @embermdk @buttercupmuffins

@corpsebridenightamare @15382663884 @discowizard88 @strawberryjambrrread @lieblinqs

#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

603 notes · View notes

kimsohn · 4 months

Text

insignificance

pairing . eric x gn! reader about . 2k words, fluff (suggestive) warnings . 16+ cause there is heavy making out at the end, drinking wine, mentions of murder but it's all jokes!!

synopsis . it takes one dinner and a late-night drive for you to fall in love with your fiancé all over again. note . the inspo for this fic was @sohnric's plot twist make-out scene (and this pic) i hope i did it justice 💗 i wrote this on a whim and am posting this at 1am so please excuse me for this monstrosity 😭 tysm @juyeonszn and @mars101 for cheering me on YUPP tagging . @stealanity @invuwrld @gfksn (+ bar)

The background noise of the waiters shuffling around fades away as your two glasses clink together. Vivaldi’s Spring is playing in the background, a piece you’ve only heard once in a blue moon at an orchestra concert. Eric seems to have experienced differently, though, judging by the taps of his dress-shoe-covered foot beneath the table and the twinkle in his eyes.

“Cheers,” you whisper, giddy with excitement.

“Cheers, baby,” Eric whispers back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin.

The wine in your glass swishes as you take a tentative sip. It’s sweet and fruity, and you’ve already forgotten the name Eric rattled off to the waiter as if expensive drinks were second nature to him. They probably were second nature to the Sohn family, considering the elegance of this fancy restaurant, the outfit he bought that now adorns you, and the sparkling ring that sits on your finger.

You set the glass down next to you, already a little overwhelmed with the elegance of this atmosphere. You knew you married rich, but it never particularly occurred to you just how rich your fiancé is. In fact, you feel a little out of place sitting in a chair that costs half of your monthly paycheck and staring at a menu that you once never would’ve been able to. Despite already being engaged to the love of your life, you’re not sure you’ll ever find a way to fit into the intricate setting that the Sohns have grown up in.

“What’s wrong?” Eric asks, seeing the glimmer in your eyes dissipate with your overthinking.

He reaches across the table to take your hands in his, running his thumb over your ring. He traces the lines of it, following the swirl pattern as if he were seeing it for the first time. As if he didn’t spend hours agonizing over what design to gift you, so sure that you would reject him if it wasn’t up to your liking.

(You would’ve said yes even if he proposed to you with a lollipop.)

“I feel like I don’t belong here,” you admit, your head hanging low as the embarrassment clouds your features.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, lacing them tightly. Eric is all too knowing of the nagging thoughts in your brain, telling you you’re undeserving of the man in front of you and the wealth that comes along with it. However, you’ve hit the jackpot in the fact that Eric is always ready to argue back with the devil on your shoulder, even if it’s three in the morning and you’re delirious from sleep or if you’re a little bit too tipsy and crying in his lap. Eric, for lack of better words, is always there for you. Even now, as he holds your hands and stares into your eyes as if you’re the only person in the universe, he is here for you.

“I’m going to eat that little voice in your head so it goes away,” he responds a moment later with finality, extremely serious.

The statement is so absurd and unexpected that it has you giggling, and you grip Eric’s fingers tighter as you lean forward and can’t find it in you to stop. All your previous tension disappears when you look into Eric’s eyes, filled with mirth and kindness.

“You’re crazy,” you voice through laughter, reaching for the wine glass to calm your jumbling nerves.

Eric just shakes his head, unable to hold back a smile that reflects your current predicament.

“Crazy for you, babe. Now stop worrying your pretty little head and enjoy your food, okay?”

And enjoy the food you do. The three-course meal followed by dessert has you clutching your stomach after, full and bloated from the amount of delicious food you’ve consumed. You can’t even bring yourself to take a couple more bites of the black forest delicacy that sits on your plate, but luckily, you have the universe to thank for the takeout box that now rests in Eric’s left hand.

His other hand holds the car keys, and as he clicks the unlock button, the Orange Corvette lights up from across the parking garage. Its bright color is exactly reminiscent of the man standing next to you, exuberant and dashing. You felt like a little kid the first time he picked you up in his car, extremely impressed with the interior neon lights he showed off to you in the earlier stages of your relationship. Now, as his fiancé, the car is something comfortable to you, having seen it too many times to count by this point.

He helps you into the front seat before getting in beside you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on the back of your headrest as he backs the car out. You’ll never admit this to him, but the view of him looking back and inching the car out is devilishly handsome to you, and you have to fight the warmth that rises to your cheeks.

Once he repositions the vehicle and drives forward, the hand that’s behind you now moves to your thigh. The shiny watch on his wrist glints in the moonlight, and he absentmindedly draws circles on your clothed skin to the beat of the song. It doesn’t help that it’s an R&B track, so every movement of his finger is slow and torturous, and every trace ignites fire against the cloth.

“Eric,” you start, watching as he pulls to a stop before the red light.

“Hm?” he responds, turning his head to face you.

You notice that he’s wearing a singular stud earring on his right ear. You can only pray that you’ll find some strength to survive the rest of this car ride because as soon as it’s over, you won’t let him see the light of day.

“How much longer?” you ask tentatively, like a little kid squirming in their seat.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to focus on the road. It doesn’t help though, because his side profile is just as alluring as his front.

“Couple more minutes, baby.”

True to his word, he exits the main road a few minutes later, driving up a dirt path unfamiliar to you. The road is slightly bumpy, and you’re a little tipsy from the wine so you shift around quite frequently, but Eric’s unwavering, strong grip on your thigh keeps you grounded. The more you stare at his hand, the more sexy you find his hand pressed against the silk you’re wearing.

You’re reconsidering your decision to spend the rest of your life with this ridiculously hot man when he pulls into a forest clearing.

“Are you going to murder me, Eric Sohn?” you tease as he parks the car, swiftly maneuvering the wheel.

You move to step out once he’s done, but he’s faster than you, and he opens the car door before you can even reach for the handle.

“If I wanted to murder you,” he says, holding your arm as you step out, “I would’ve already done so, my love.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes, but you have little to be annoyed about as you survey your surroundings. The dark forest around you is a contrast to the vividness of the car, but nothing seems brighter than Eric’s smile at the moment and the twinkling stars around you.

Eric leads you to a clearing, his hand pressed against the small of your back. You peer over, fascinated at the realization that you can see the whole city from here. The twinkling lights of the bustling city below you are something of a dream, and as you look towards Eric, you can see the stars reflected in his eyes.

Minutes like these, where you’re not surrounded by extravagance, are when you truly feel your connection with Eric. Raw, unearthed, and simply pure, you feel like you’re stripped of all labels. You both are just insignificant specks in the universe, and he is truly just some guy to you in this moment, but you know wholeheartedly that this very guy is the one you truly love. You would never have it any other way.

The grin on Eric’s face is infectious as you face him with one of your own. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, clasping them together as his arms find their way around your waist.

“Found this place the other day,” he explains as if he could hear your thoughts, “I kinda regret not proposing to you here.”

“Don’t lie,” you mutter, knowing that he definitely does not regret whisking you away to his private condo in the mountains just to put a ring on your finger.

He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours. The cicadas chirp around you, and all is silent when he calms down except for your two breaths in unison. His gaze circulates from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes, and whatever triangle method he’s using is working because one second later, you lean in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

He tastes like strawberries, and you smile against his lips remembering that you’d gifted him strawberry lip balm two days ago. Your man, your sexy, diligent man, following your orders to take care of his lips stirs butterflies in your stomach. The fact that you hold some kind of power over the Sohn family’s heir makes you feel a little dizzy, but your only response is to pull Eric closer and kiss him harder.

The sweetness of both the strawberry scent and the kiss fade as he presses back with just as fervor, adjusting his arms around you to pull you in tighter. The space between you feels unbearable, and despite the proximity between you two, the gap is still too big for your liking. You need him viscerally, every part of him on you as if the very concept of distance is poisonous and Eric is your antidote.

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling back with shallow breaths, “the car.”

You end up in the front seat of his car, the seat tilted backward and you in Eric’s lap. One of his knees holds you in place against your back, and his hands rest on your waist. The position is far too intimate that anyone walking by will know exactly what’s going on. Your kisses have turned heady, mirroring the darkness in his eyes and the way you clutch onto the front of his black shirt. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, but Eric distracts you with his tongue swiping across your lips and the way he softly bites when you protest. By some miracle, you finish moments later, and you run your hands down his skin. He shivers, and everything feels like pure electricity between you two the way his fingers press into your sides tighter.

(It will bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care. You’ll simply shrug on a shirt and try to fight a blush as Eric stares at you from the bed shirtless, a knowing grin on his face.)

His kisses trail down your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, finally finding a home in your collarbone, biting and sucking as if it was his favorite pastime. It probably is, with the way he kisses down your shoulder and tugs the strap of clothing down.

Your fingers trace his collarbone, and you hold his head in your hands as he looks up at you. He’s needy and restless, but he’ll always listen to you when you have something to say.

You may be an insignificant speck in the world, but in Eric’s eyes, you’re the whole universe.

“I love you,” you whisper.

It’s all you have to say before he flips you around, pressing you into the dip of the seat as he slides your clothing down. The air conditioning of the car and the ambient music bring goosebumps to your now exposed skin, but Eric makes everything disappear by resuming his previous ministrations.

He looks into your eyes before pressing a kiss right above your heart. It beats against your chest, heavy, and Eric knows it’s only for him. It will always be only for him.

“I love you too,” he whispers back, smiling against your skin.

“Forever and always.”

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moonsaver · 2 months

Note

Wahh I'm back haha, don't worry about messing up the request it happens! I still loved it the other way around!

Im so sorry anon, im delirious from lack of sleep and didnt read your request right. I hope this will be okay, <33

Sunday is usually busy, so when on this specific day, when you insist on meeting up with him in the middle of his schedule, he's a bit irked.

He imagines its most likely something important, or you needed something that only he could provide (which could only be done in private, behind doors).

So he's very sure to clear out people from the vicinity of his office, telling them he'll be alright and hastily shoo-ing them away in the most professional manner.

And then.. you show up, with a cheeky grin and a heart-shaped box. Curious.

And you set down the chocolate on his desk, almost humorously contrasting to his very well kept desk. You explain Valentine's to him and he understands, mainly because it's a bit of his duty to keep tabs on festivities, even of other planets.

And he offers you to sit down, asks you about it in more detail, while curiously scanning the box. He doesn't realise you made it yourself until you drop it in the middle of conversation, and he stays still for a moment, deep in thought, before a loving smile breaks out on his face.

Sunday appreciates any effort from you so much. He knows he's not exactly easy to love, especially because you have to do it from a distance most of the time. So he appreciates it so so much. He's already thinking of all the ways he wants to pay you back – not because he sees it as a transaction, but rather he wants to let you know he sees your efforts and wants to return them, too.

Lovingly guides you to sit you down beside him, and feeds you a piece of chocolate first, and then eats it himself. Very neatly picks it up, careful to make sure it doesnt melt on his gloves, and it doesn't get on your face. Wipes off any excess bits on your face and compliments the flavors, tells you about how popular they are, flavors that are particularly favored from certain worlds, and all sorts of things. He wraps up the box neatly and insists you wait for a bit outside his office, tenderly kissing your forehead.

After a few moments of quiet shuffling, his door clicks open, as he gives you a very beautifully sealed letter. He says it was supposed to be for another occasion, and he had to rush the writing a bit at the end, but most of it was completed, and stamped perfectly. The letter is about 3 pages long, and full of well-wishes, and feelings Sunday probably wouldn't be able to tell you directly face to face. He kisses your hand and tells you he'll make some time for you another day, and make up for the time he couldn't spend today.

He listens to your quiet footsteps shuffle down the hallway, further away from his office, and once he's sure you're gone, he sighs, sitting down in his office chair. He sits deeply in thought, and anyone walking in would have thought he was in deep trouble, trying to find a solution for an extremely multifaceted and complex issue.. when really, he's thinking about just how dangerously he's wrapped around your finger. Perhaps he prefers it that way?

#moonink #hsr #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr sunday x reader #hsr x you #hsr sunday x y/n #hsr sunday x you #sunday x reader #sunday hsr

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darling-i-read-it · 2 years

Text

Your Turn

The Grabber (Albert Shaw) x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: i do NOT condone his actions at all in the movies obvi this is fiction and should be treated as such, the reader has some form of stockholm syndrome for sure, the reader is naked but there’s no sexual acts but there’s kind of an undertone, talks about suicide (as an option but not as a serious consideration), kidnapping, uh..al

Author’s Note: *slowly walks into the room* hey…. He is currently everything to me im sorry if you just followed me after stranger things season 4. This is unfortunately. The norm. (ethan hawke as a MURDERERRRR. Why must I write my best and favorite works for murderers. Why can’t I be normal)

Summary: You’ve been kidnapped by the grabber but you were not in his demographic and you have been there for two weeks which for him…is a very long time

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The air was stale. It had been stale for what felt like forever. Sometimes, when the door in front of you opened, you would get a rush of cool air. It would circulate. He always left the door open while he was standing there, talking to you. You imagined it was because he needed an out in case you started to get testy.

You never did.

He was getting frustrated.

You began to look forward to the circulation of air. The movement through the room, the breathing in of the cool outside air. You could tell what the day was going to look like through the window but you could never taste the rain or feel the sun.

You were sitting below the phone. The chord had been ripped off. You thought maybe, someone before you had tried to hang themselves with it. It’s what you might’ve thought about, had you been desperate. But for some reason, you weren't desperate yet.

You hadn’t expected to be a victim of the grabber. He had only been picking up teen boys. You, a young adult girl, never thought you would’ve been next. But here you were, sitting on the dirty mattress, staring at the door, willing it to move.

Rush.

Like he had heard you thinking, the door clicked. You perked up, putting your palms flat underneath you. You were hungry and you were tired. He walked inside, unfortunately empty handed. He was wearing a mask that covered his mouth today but not his eyes. That was different.

“Good morning,” you whispered. Your throat was dry so your voice cracked. He seemed sympathetic to that, head tilting a bit, eyes softening.

“Did you just wake up?” he questioned quietly, slightly disappointed. He would hate to have missed your sleep. You looked so peaceful when you were dozing, lips slightly parted and face serene. Like nothing wrong could ever happen to you.

Nevertheless, you shook your head.

“I thought it was morning by the light,” you said. You moved your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. You tried to make yourself small so he really had to stare at you to grasp any kind of reaction you had.

“It isn’t.”

“Must be an odd weather day then,” you said, shrugging.

You had been here for two weeks yesterday. The longest he had ever kept any single person in the basement alive. He wasn’t sure why he had kept you. You had surely never come up to visit him when he left the door open and he usually got frustrated when it took too long. The papers had printed your face, your name, your family's worries. But still, you stayed. You made no attempt to leave.

It wasn't’ because you had no will to live.

Maybe, some sick twisted part of you just liked it. Liked having someone make decisions for you. Bring you food, watch over you while you slept. You felt disgusted every time you thought about it but you were delirious from the lack of light and the shock had worn off a week ago.

You were here now.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, observing each other. You cleared your throat, rubbing your nose with your sleeve.

“Are you here to kill me?”

“No,” he said, voice gravely but certain. The thought truly hadn’t even crossed his mind when he opened the door. He didn’t really have a reason. He walked down the stairs as he would’ve if he was visiting a friend staying in the basement of his house. It was only when the door opened that he realized he had to have a reason.

You shifted awkwardly.

“Can I ask you for something?” you questioned. He raised an eyebrow. You hadn’t actually asked him for anything. You hadn’t demanded to be let go or asked for food or water.

“Yes.”

“Can I have a change of clothes? Any clothes will do.”

You had started to feel like mold was growing in your sleeves, even though you knew that was unrealistic. The sweat and grime of your capture had worn off on your jeans. You could feel the weight of the entire two weeks by the way your shirt rested on your shoulders.

While he thought of an answer, you admired his face. You usually only saw the bottom half, if anything. You normally didn’t see his hairline at all. You supposed, in another world, you may have found him attractive.

You supposed, maybe you did in this world too.

He walked up to you and you made no move to shrink more. He sat on the side of the bed and thought.

Max wasn’t home. He had gone ‘bowling’, which Al was almost certain was code for buying more drugs. When he went off he usually left for an hour or two. Regardless, he was very loud when he came home. The dog barked, the door slammed shut, Max called into the house about some absurd story he had been making up the entire way home.

The Grabber wasn’t sure if it was curiosity of you or of his limits but he made his decision then.

“Follow me.”

He stood up again and you were almost certain you had just screwed yourself. Any kind of relationship you felt you had with this man would end in your untimely death.

Warily, you stood. Your feet felt wobbly as you followed him to the door. He didn’t pause when he walked through it but you did. You looked to him for guidance, for reassurance. He turned back once he had walked a few steps up.

He nodded, gesturing for you to follow.

“I promise nothing bad will happen to you.”

Your feet creaked on the steps. You looked around the house. Your mind told you to find things to attack him maybe, to call someone for help, to signal for attention. But you followed him without acting on any of those impulses. You thought of those scary movies where the person always messed it up for themselves.

What if they just did what they were told?

He led you through a hallway and to a bathroom. There were no windows. It was small, the toilet cramped between the shower and the sink. It was, however, homely. It was something you would find at a friend's house. Foregin but not unwelcome.

“You can’t bathe alone,” he said, the threat back in his voice. Your breath hitched a bit as he put his hand on your back. “Surely you know that.”

“Of course.”

You weren’t sure what that included but you didn’t argue. He started the water and you realized you weren’t showering at all, like you had dumbly figured. You were taking a bath.

You watched his movements. He was wearing a short sleeve shirt today. You could scratch him, people would notice. He knew this. You knew this.

Testing the waters of trust.

You moved slowly as you sat on the edge of the bathtub, placing your hand under the water. He put his hand underneath yours and your remnants of the running stream trickled onto his. It was an oddly intimate moment where you both just sat there, feeling at the water got warmer and then stopping when it was perfect.

He stood up and you cleared your throat, unsure of what exactly he wanted you to do.

“What are you doing?” you asked, as he moved to the door.

“Getting you clothes silly.”

He left the room, leaving the door wide open. You looked back to the water and stuck your hand in it, relishing in the feeling of it under your fingers. You could already feel the crust leaving your skin.

Al stood beside the door for a moment, watching in the mirror to see what you would do. You didn’t even stare at the door for a second longer than you should’ve. You just looked back to the bath.

You trusted him, if not somewhat. He wasn’t sure what that made him feel but he grabbed you clothes regardless. He placed some on the counter. The water was rising slowly.

“Do you have a name I can call you?” you asked, looking up at him.

“It’s not important.”

“But I’ve just been calling you Grabber in my mind. It doesn’t seem like a very realistic name,” you admitted. Extending an olive branch. “You know my name. I told you when you asked.”

You had. You hadn’t lied to him at all in fact, from what he could tell.

“Let’s play a game,” he said. “While we wait.”

“Sure.”

“I ask you a question and you have to answer truthfully. You can ask me a question and I’ll answer truthfully,” he suggested. There were some things about you he was dying to know. A promise of a transaction just might get it out of you.

“How will you know if I’m lying?”

“I’ll know.” The tone of his voice reminded you once again that this man had kidnapped you.

“Alright. You start then.”

He sat across from you, resting on the covered toilet seat. You were close, knees almost touching in the cramped space.

“What is your mothers name?”

“Y/M/N,” you said, easily. “That’s a silly question.”

“Say I’m testing the waters.” He knew the answer. It was in the papers.

“My turn.” You breathed deeply. “What’s your name?” He knew that was going to be it yet he hadn’t prepared for it. He could lie but he had promised honesty. You were giving him honesty after all.

“Al.”

“Al,” you said, testing the name on your lips.

“Do you trust me?”

You paused, pursing your lips. You trusted him not to leave you there to die. You trusted that he would be back. You trusted that he would bring you food before you starved.

“I think in some way, yes, yes I do Al.” You pointed slowly at the mask over his mouth. “Why do you wear that?”

“I like it,” he said. “Are you going to get undressed for me?”

Your lips parted and you cleared your throat, looking down at the water. It was almost full already. It seemed to be going so slow a moment ago.

“Yes,” you said. “I did…ask for this after all,” you said, allowed to try and convince yourself. He turned off the water and you took a deep breath. You had a mixture of emotions as you started to discard your shirt. Embarrassment but also relief. You desperately wanted it off you. You cleared your throat with insecurity and put it gently on the counter. He was watching you. He made no attempt to hide it.

You shimmied off your pants and then were left in your undergarments. You watched him as he gazed at you. You suddenly felt a warmth in your stomach, a familiar pleasant feeling at the behest of his stare. You had his full attention.

You took off the last pieces of your clothes and without hesitation stepped into the bath. You sunk into it and let out an involuntary breath of relief. The warm water felt amazing on your aching bones. You almost forgot he was there.

He shifted and you looked back up at him. Previously you were at eye level with him while sitting but you were now far below him.

“Thank you,” you said and you meant it. He knew you meant it.

He nodded, adjusting his pants and feeling his mask particularly constricting. You started to get your hair wet but he grabbed your wrist.

You watched him as he started to gently get your hair wet, pouring water over your head. He was careful not to get it in your beautiful eyes.

“It’s my turn,” you said. “Why me?”

That had been the question he was asking himself as well. He wasn’t sure how to answer. He put some shampoo in his hands and gently put it in your hair.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.

You suddenly became overwhelmed with the feeling to discard his mask and kiss him. Feeling immediately ashamed you looked back down at the water.

“Why haven’t you left?” he asked. The feeling of his fingers running through your scalp was distracting. They were thick and strong. He must work some sort of construction job maybe? Or moving boxes at least.

“I think…I think I like you,” you said honestly. “Are you a construction worker?” He scoffed at the quick change in momentum.

“No.” In fact, he was lightly laughing at it. The sound of his surprise made you laugh a bit too.

“Your fingers are strong is all,” you explained.

He nodded and started to rinse your hair out.

“Finish up and get dressed,” he said, desperately needing a moment to himself. Unless you clawed out the damn wall, you would be okay locked in there while he stood outside the room. You nodded at him and watched him leave. You sat there, practically drowning yourself in the warm water until it got cold. Then you took the towel and washed yourself off, putting on the clothes laid out for you.

Cardigan and slacks. Comfortable.

You knocked on the door. He opened it slowly and gestured for you to follow him. You ddi as you were told, walking back down the dreaded basement stairs. The door reopened and you were back. You walked past him onto your mattress.

“Thank you,” you said again because you didn’t think he really heard you the first time. Overwhelmed with unfamiliar feelings, he nodded. He turned to leave but stopped, turning around.

“What did you mean by like?”

“I meant like Al,” you said honestly. You snatched up your turn after his question.

“Will you…will you stay a bit? You don’t have to sit with me but just…sit.” He looked at you. Helpless, at his mercy. Listening to his orders and not kicking up a fuss.

After a moment he didn’t nod or shake his head, he just shut the door with the both of you inside. You had moved through a lot of trust in a short amount of time. He started to walk to sit against the wall and then detoured. He sat at the foot of the mattress while you sat against the wall. He turned to face you.

You lightly smiled.

“It’s your turn Al.”

“Alright honey. Lemme think of a question.”

#the grabber x reader #the grabber imagines #the grabber black phone x reader #the black phone imagines #albert shaw x reader #albert shaw imagines #black balloons tag

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whumpwillow · 10 months

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a royal whumpee (in my head he’s a prince) who is generally hated and very stuck up and spoiled is captured by gang of criminals who probably have a personal vendetta against him (something along the lines of they lost loved ones to poverty while the royal family lived expensively and lavishly)

they lock him in a cell with no food and no water, in an attempt to make him face a bit of what they had to suffer through all their lives and the only way they’ll feed prince is if he begs them for it

prince, being stuck up and proud, refuses for several days because he doesn’t want to submit to the criminals, but eventually he becomes so weak, desperate, and delirious from hunger and and dehydration that he breaks and ends up sobbing and begging for even just a small amount of food and water. he sobs that he is sorry for everything and that he just wants to go home and sleep and is essentially reduced to a blubbering mess

i cant decide if i want the whumpers to remain cold and apathetic, or if i want them to maybe realize that a lot of what they are upset about isn’t the prince’s fault and it becomes like a whumper to caretaker kind of thing

sorry if this writing is too long and all over the place i just love royal whumpees i’ve been so happy to see em on your page

Don’t be sorry!!! This is fantastic, phenomenal, amazing, stunning ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ and yeah I’m glad people are coming together on here to help populate the royal whumpee tag because it was sorely lacking

#whump #whump prompt #willow answers #answered asks #whump prompts #whumpee #whump tropes #prince whumpee #royal whump #royal whumpee #royalty whump #whumper turned caretaker #multiple whumpers #kidnapping tw #kidnapped whumpee

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suguwuus · 4 months

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Could you write conner x daughter of hades. She has to comfort him about his nightmares about Luke after getting back from the Argo 2 mission.

ok so maybe i lied abt posting the mphfpc au first. also ?? was a bit confused w the ask but i made it work. reader is nico and hazel's sibling and yeah you'll figure it out. also i think it's more focused on reader than connor WAAAAHH sorry !! being a hades kid already has enough baggage so

wc: 1.8k words

contains: heavily hinted trauma/ptsd

You couldn't sleep. You just couldn't. Even with the warmth of another body pressing onto you, even with his boyish scent mixed with a hint of citrus, even with the assurance of every breath he took, and the breaths that tickled your side, you couldn't find it in you to want to sleep.

If you closed your eyes you'd see bloodshed and gnashing teeth and the flash of bronze. If you listened to anything other than your or his breathing you'd hear roars, of either the raging wind or the hordes of monsters in front of you, or the screams of your companions.

If you looked to the side you'd start picturing red eyes watching you through the window, hungrily waiting for you to let your guard down. If you looked to the other side you'd see your brother Nico's empty bed. You knew it was his, even though he hadn't left a trace.

You wondered how he was doing, but that made a lump grow in your throat and your eyes started to sting and something ugly burned in the pit of your stomach. Fuck! Why did you agree to go on that stupid quest anyway? Quest...no, it wasn't a quest. It was a mistake, that's what it was. A mistake that led you into being separated from your half-siblings—who knows where they are or what they're doing, definitely not you; or if they were still alive—no. No, you told yourself firmly. You would've felt it if it happened. And you have not felt anything. You refused to even entertain the thought.

Your mind started to cloud with worry. Even though you couldn't remember much, the feeling was still there. Nico's eyes genuinely looked like those of a cornered animal; it was the first time you'd ever seen him like that. And then after that, you were on the shores of Long Island, battered and bruised and barely coherent. It was a bad ambush and Nico had shadow traveled you back to camp.

You didn't want to think about him. Because you'd end up crying, and you didn't like crying. And you didn't want to end up crying about everything else, like the burden on your shoulders and possible survivor's guilt, the weight Nico and Hazel would be carrying right now, the responsibility, the lack of your siblings' whereabouts, the primordial deity Gaea waking up...

Fuck. You were spiraling again. In the literal sense of the word, your head wasn't spinning, but it did feel quite loud.

You bit your lip. It's here again.

You didn't want to move. You were afraid you'd explode if you did. Your fingertips tingled. Electricity tickled at the callouses, calling for the hilt of a blade, the surface of a stone to throw, the sinew of a bowstring, the shaft of a spear, even the trigger of a gun.

It's the bloodlust and jitters you'd been feeling these past few weeks, when traveling with Nico, defending the Argo II when attacks struck or yourself when you were out alone. And it didn't help much now, now that you were thinking about all these things and sleep deprived, dehydrated, hungry, and possibly delirious. You were afraid that if you got up and moved your body like how a puppeteer would work his marionette you wouldn't be satisfied with anything until you were able to destroy something completely.

The ugly feeling in your stomach was close to bubbling over the brim. You had parted your lips to sigh, but nothing came out. A jolt of horror went through you. Were you turning into a shadow?

You did the first thing you could do to ground yourself—squeeze Connor's arm which was draped over your body.

He grunted in his sleep and stirred, but didn't wake. You couldn't turn your head to look at him.

This time, when you sighed, you heard your shaky breath. That calmed you down a bit. But Connor moved again beside you, and this time you could hear a faint whisper come out of his mouth.

When you finally look over at him, he's clammy. Sweat is beading at his temples and his brows are furrowed. It takes you a second to snap out of it, a second and the feeling of his hand twitch against your midriff.

"No. I won't..." He's mumbling things, and you wonder whether you should wake him up or not. You've seen and heard of incidents where demigods are woken up in the middle of their nightmares and it springs them into action, triggering their battle skills and having them attack the person who woke them up. Then again, you weren't afraid of that happening with him.

Oh, so now you trusted him enough to think that he wouldn't attack you on instinct?

But then again, no matter what happened when you woke him up, you'd forgive any reaction, violent or not. After all, you yourself stayed up to avoid your own bad dreams.

You didn't want to see him thrash around and you didn't want him to suffer in his dreams for any longer. And you didn't care if it risked your face to wake him up. So you give his arm a little shake.

He doesn't wake, so you do it harder. You use your voice this time. "Connor." It sounds hoarse. It breaks through the silence like a jagged blade.

He stirs again, and you can see his irises move under his eyelids. He blinks awake a few moments later, arms moving confusedly as if he was still, quite literally, half asleep.

When his gaze landed on you, he flinched, but then he realized it was you, so he turned away, embarrassed. Clapping a hand over his mouth, he almost fell off the bed, swinging his legs over the edge.

"I-I can't...oh, Y/N, I'm sorry, sweetie, shit, was I keeping you up?" He looks over his shoulder at you and you slowly shake your head, not sure how to respond to him.

"You were having a bad dream," You explained. "Did I do you a favor or...?"

Connor stayed silent. He put his elbows on his thighs and bent over, cradling his head in his hands. "I don't understand, I don't understand, why did he show up again, I thought—shit." He murmured a string of Greek curses.

Carefully, you scooted over to him. You put a shaking hand on his shoulder. "Do you...uhm..."

"It's...Luke." His voice was strained, like he forced himself to utter the name. The name of his older half-brother who taught him all the best tricks, taught him how to swim, showed him all the best hiding spots in camp, explained all the best ways to pickpocket someone, and also betrayed the camp years ago, becoming the vessel of Kronos, the god who took part in causing the Second Titan War.

You didn't really know much about him. But you could tell that he meant a lot to Connor and Travis. And you could only imagine their pain having to take over Cabin 11 for someone who now had gold eyes and was leading an army to his previous (and their) home.

Connor was shaking his head, and you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder. "I don't want him to come back, I thought I was done with that. He's dead," he said loudly, and for a second you thought he was telling it to himself and not you.

"Gods, I don't want him to come back. I miss him, yeah, no shit, but I don't want him back, I have my own big brother—"

"One that isn't a douchebag, yeah," You blurted out without thinking. You were too groggy to care about his reaction, but to your great surprise, his shoulders trembled with a small laugh.

He sighed and turned to face you. His bottom lip looked red and bitten, the skin punctured, and there were marks on his forehead where he must've dug his nails into. But he was smiling softly, with trembling lips. Smiling like you were the only thing that mattered to him at that moment.

He opened his arms, and when you didn't move closer, remaining curled up on the other edge of the bed like that, he was the one who scooted over, attaching himself to your body as a source of comfort.

He heaved a sigh and murmured something you couldn't understand, but you followed his lead and wrapped an arm around him, too. You would never get over how warm he was, especially in contrast to how naturally cold you were.

Eventually you ended up with both your arms around him, one hand in his hair, the other patting his back. You trusted yourself enough to finally close your eyes. The darkness wasn't so bad when you could feel Connor in your embrace.

You could still feel his brows which were knit together, his tense shoulders and his pursed lips. And yet you were willing to hold him like this until he was all better.

"I'm here," you whispered. "It's alright. It was just a dream. Luke is..." You paused, running your hand through his hair. You were never good with words. "He's not here. He's never coming back anymore, you're safe." Your breath almost got caught in your throat. In the general sense, that was an obvious lie, but you hoped he understood what you meant.

"It's just me, Connor. It's okay."

You felt him bite his lip again, but then eventually he released his balled fists and hugged you back, finally relaxing. The both of you adjusted so you were leaning against pillows propped up, and when Connor finally sat up from pressing his face into you there were lines on his face and he was a bit flushed.

You stared at him, taking in his features and his slight frown. "Are...you okay?" You asked tentatively. He nodded, looking down. You could see his eyelashes were wet. His breath still trembled, but only for a moment. The best you could do was give him a supportive squeeze.

"Thanks." There was a rustle as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, getting back into a comfortable position. "Thank you, for...yeah. I'll try not to think about it." He leaned on the wall and laced his fingers through yours, sighing against your neck. "What would I do without you?"

When you didn't answer, unsure of what to respond with, he chuckled lightly and kissed your cheek. "It's a rhetorical question. I love you."

#— suguwuu's posts #connor stoll #connor stoll x reader #pjo x reader #pjo oneshots #pjo #hey girls im back

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lighthouseas · 8 months

Text

- brick fireplace // a byler ficlet

Mike thinks he might have a sixth sense, of some kind.

Having not slept very soundly these past few months, Mike has miraculously found that he's actually fallen asleep the night Will has to stay in his room due to the limited space in the Wheeler household.

And those two things are NOT related. Obviously.

It's just coincidence, then, when he jolts awake, utterly disoriented, to the sound of heavy breathing - like someone is having a panic attack. Mike turns to the side, where Will is currently stationed on the floor, sleeping in a sleeping bag that Mike had had to shake the dust out of due to it having been left at the back of a storage closet for...who knows how long.

"Will?" he whispers. He can't really see anything, since his room is pitch black - but he can hear the gasping breaths, which immediately stop once he speaks.

"Sorry," Will murmurs. "I'm sorry. I- I woke you up, didn't I?"

Mike shuffles under his bedcovers, still not really awake but immediately sensing that something is wrong regardless. "Yeah, but -" Will's breathing is still heavy. Mike wonders if he'll take oxygen donations from him. "Are you okay?"

It's a stupid question. No shit, Mike, of course Will isn't okay. He's kind of reliving all of his childhood trauma on full display for all of his family and friends. No, Will is not okay. And as Will's best friend, Mike should know this. He's a little scared, though - a bit hesitant to reach beyond the walls they've built up over the last two years. Scared that if he pokes at one brick - removes a single block, puts one stick out of place - reaches out and says, let me help calm you, holds Will in his arms like he so desperately wants to - the walls will come crashing down, all at once. And that's not what he wants. And probably not what Will wants, either, but really, what does he know?

Beside him, Will is silent for a moment. "Do you want an honest answer?" he murmurs. Mike tenses. He knows what Will is referencing, of course - lying to him about the painting, which had nearly fractured their friendship forever. He's not letting him lie again.

"Well, yeah."

"It was just-" Will sighs. He definitely thinks it isn't a big deal, even though it fucking is, and Mike is overcome with the urge to shake him violently by the shoulders. "A nightmare. They've been getting worse since-"

"...yeah." It doesn't take Mike long to realize what Will is referring to - all he has to do is look through the cracks in his blinds to see the red clouds, probably identical to the ones Will had seen in 1983, coating the Hawkins' skies above.

"Yeah," Will replies softly.

They're silent for another moment. Mike feels like - well, he feels a lot of things, most of which he has a terrible time expressing. But right now, he just feels tired, and he knows Will is, too, if the bags under his eyes Mike's been seeing as of late are anything to go by.

And so he pokes at a loose brick in the wall. It can't hurt. "Why don't you come up here?" Mike pats the empty bedspace beside him, and he swears he hears Will gasp. As if they hadn't done this countless times before as little kids.

It's different now, obviously. The connotation is different, after everything that's gone on. But Mike is delirious from lack of sleep, and the only coherent thoughts his brain is putting together are Will and scared, which he figures amounts to something, especially when his mattress dips as additional weight is added to it and he finds himself naturally giving the bigger part of the blanket to Will, who always shivered if he didn't have at least two blankets, no matter how warm it was outside.

"Mike, you don't have to do this," Will says airily as Mike gently pushes his shoulder to ease him onto the mattress. Mike's eyelids are already droopy. He doesn't fully realize the implications of what he's doing, but Will definitely feels tired, too, and doesn't either. "I'm okay."

"Mm. Then why did you come up here? Could've refused," Mike replies teasingly, but there's no bite behind it.

The brick is coming loose. Wobbling on the other side of the wall, creating a crack in the structure that one can just barely see through to the other side with.

"I-" Despite his previous opposal, Will is now actively snuggling into the blankets. He chuckles. "I dunno. You're like...a human furnace, I guess. And I was cold."

Mike's eyes are closed, now. "I do run hot," he murmurs. "You needed company, too. C'mon, admit it."

"Mike-"

"You love me."

All goes silent for a moment. Mike is beginning to fall asleep. The brick is teetering on the edge of falling out, but not quite removed from the wall yet. Maybe that can wait until tomorrow.

"I'm cold. You're hogging the blankets," Will whispers, though Mike can tell he wants to say something else.

Without opening his eyes, Mike shifts forward, hoisting himself farther up onto the pillows so his head rests atop Will's and his long arms can wrap protectively around his torso. It's nice, and ridiculously cozy. Will breathes fast against his neck, and for a moment, Mike thinks he may be having a nightmare again.

"What are you doing?"

And - okay. Mike doesn't really know what he's doing, at the moment. He's sort of already half asleep, and Will says he's cold, and Mike runs hot, so he's come to the only logical solution: be Will's human furnace (and protector against nightmares, but that's a silly title, and Mike knows Will hates talking like that. Maybe it can just be implied.)

"I'm keeping you warm," Mike answers simply.

Silence. He fidgets, though it's more like a fish flop since his muscles have turned to jelly with sleep. In doing so, he accidentally nuzzles his face into Will's hair, and catches a brief scent of vanilla shampoo.

"Is this...okay?" Mike asks, just to make sure.

Will is silent for a moment, and then Mike feels him nod against his sternum. It sends shivers up his spine, but they're the good kind - the kind that ease Mike into slumber almost immediately.

He's asleep, now, all noises from the outside muffled. Something whispers into his sternum - it feels like lips, tracing quiet words into his skin, begging him to understand. Begging him to just feel.

"I love you."

The brick falls out of the wall, and Mike pulls Will just a little bit closer.

#guys it is almost 5 am send help #sleepy eepy eepers. inspired by me.obviously #fell asleep multilple times when editing this #alsl this was written in my notes app mostly at 4 am sobe nice please. tha ks #sobs im so tired #stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #📝#byler fics #byler ficlets #st.txt

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zablife · 2 years

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Can I request a Jake x Reader Halloween fluff where Jake wears scary(-ish?) costume and tries to scare reader? 🥺

Hi darl, tysm for the request! I went in a slightly diff direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Psycho

As the opening credits began, you scrunched up your face in disappointment and called to your boyfriend who was still in the kitchen. "Jake, what is this? A black and white movie? How scary can this be?" you asked with a roll of your eyes.

"I'll have you know this is a classic, darlin'. How have you never seen a Hitchcock movie?" he asked, joining you on the sofa with a large bowl of popcorn.

You grabbed a handful from him, snuggling down under your blanket with a shrug. "Because I'm not 85 years old?" you teased.

He slid an arm around you, kissing your cheek and nibbling at your earlobe, "Callin' me an old man now? I remember you thinking more highly of me last night," he said with a smirk. "Come on, quit pouting, you're gonna like this one," he promised, reaching for the remote. Jake had sat through plenty of terrible films you enjoyed and now he wanted to share a classic with you.

When the movie ended, you sat in silence for a moment, not wanting to admit how much the thriller had gotten to you. The actor was really creepy and the thought of him pretending to be his mother while keeping her corpse in the basement was a sickening thought you'd rather forget. Instead of admit that to Jake, you excused yourself to take a shower.

Once the water was running, you realized what a horrible idea it had been. You immediately began thinking of the first scenes in the film when the young woman was brutally murdered in the hotel bathroom. Her scream replayed in your head and you began scrubbing your hair as quickly as possible. In your haste some suds ran down your face, stinging your eyes. As you rushed to wash them out, you heard something fall from the bathroom counter and it made you scream.

Jake rushed in asking, "Everything ok?"

You cursed under your breath not wanting to admit the real reason you were startled. "Um, yeah...thought I saw a bug," you lied.

As you burrowed under the duvet that night, Jake pulled you close asking, "Why are you shivering, baby? Are you cold? Or maybe that old person's movie scared you more than you want to admit?" You felt his chin rest against the top of your head as he stroked your back gently. Although you felt soothed by the contact, you hated being treated like a spooked child.

"Don't be a dick," you snapped back in the darkness.

"Somebody's touchy" he chuckled.

"I just want to go to bed, " you mumbled as you fell into a deep sleep.

Over the next couple of days, you walked through the house cautiously. Jake was away on a training exercise and you were all alone. Despite your attempts to reason with yourself, you couldn't help feeling a bit jumpy. The lack of sleep wasn't helping your paranoia either. By the fourth day, you were delirious.

It was Halloween and you dutifully handed out candy to all the trick-or-treaters in the neighborhood before turning out the lights. As a way to treat yourself, you ate a few pieces of candy before grabbing a fuzzy robe and slippers, ready for a long, relaxing shower. You were determined not to think about the infamous scene from the film as you had done every time you bathed this week.

However, no sooner had you begun lathering your body, you heard a door creak open slowly. Your heart began to race, knowing you were the only one home. Heavy footsteps fell outside the bathroom door and your pulse doubled as you fumbled to shut off the water.

"Hello? Who's there?" you called out in a shaky voice. You huddled in the corner of the shower, clutching your chest as you shivered. Then, to your horror, a hand reached for the curtain and pulled it back with a jerk. You let out a blood curdling scream before catching a glimpse of Jake's olive green flight suit. You sunk to the floor of the shower, gasping for breath as you shouted out, "What the fuck, Jake! You psycho, what are you doing here?"

Jake clapped a hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh. "I live here, remember?" When he realized how terrified you had been, he became unbelievably guilty and reached a hand out to help you up. "I got off early and thought I'd come home and surprise you," he explained gently.

"Well, you snuck up on me in the shower on fucking Halloween and scared the shit out of me!" you said with a gulp. Then softening slightly you added, "I...I got scared after that damn movie, alright?" You wrapped your arms around yourself from fear and cold and Jake gave you a knowing smile to convey he wouldn't be making fun of you anymore.

"Can I get in there with you and make it better? Show you how sorry I am?," he asked, unzipping his flight suit and yanking it down. You nodded slowly, pulling the curtain back to show him he was welcome. He stepped in and drew you close to him as he turned the water back on, clutching you to his chest until he felt your breathing even out. You had to admit that you didn't mind a little scare every now and then if this is how Jake chose to comfort you afterwards.

#zablife ask box #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick imagine #Jake Seresin fanfic #Jake Seresin imagine #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x you #Jake seresin x y/n #Hangman fanfic #Hangman x reader

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urfavslav · 1 year

Text

comfort4hurt/fluff babeyyyyy ... könig x gender neutral reader. readers callsign is selene because they watch the moon and talk about it a lot.

you hear a faint yet gentle hum, almost like the melody of a tune as you finally come back to your senses, autopilot wearing off. soon you notice the ache coming from your body.

you push around the area of the wound like a squishy toy, slightly delirious from the lack of sleep this mission demanded and adrenaline high fading.

When did I get injured?

you level your breathing, clumsily take out a mass of gauze from your vest to apply to your body in attempt to slow the bleeding.

Your mag is empty. Change it. Answer comms.

the comms go off again, informing you to meet up at the rendezvous point. you made your way. the team occasionally buzzing your earpiece to check on you every so often.

"Selene, How copy?"

you responded every so often with a; "Fine" or "Be there soon." the beloved callsign soon loosing all meaning with how often it rang in your ear.

your destination is just up ahead. a couple more steps. keep going then you can drop.

it was pretty dark, around 2200 hours and you had reached the building, already eerily quiet as you opened the door expecting someone awake, but no. there were small lights coming from another side rooms where you could only assume someone was still functioning.

after stalking around for something to drink you stumbled to the bathroom, stripping of your gear and boots.

heavy steps could be heard meandering around but you ignored the sound, keeping focus on your task at hand. cleaning your face and wound as the steps got closer and closer till they stopped.

you shot up at the voice from behind the door, the vial of vodka you were going to use to disinfect your injury now in bits and pieces on the tile.

"Selene?" it was könig.

"Shit," you whisper, no energy in your tank to deal with the glass on the ground. "come in.."

the masked austrian carefully steps in. no emotion is visible yet you can practically feel the worry as he sits down and looks at your almost clean face asking your permission to assist. "May I?"

he points at your messy excuse of a bandage. you nod and könig reaches for the first aid kit he left outside the door just in case. "When did you arrive?"

rough fingers slowly peel back the gauze as you turn your head to the teeny window in the washroom, "Not long". He ignored how your answer didn't fully make sense but he understood, giving you a curt nod.

the gash wasn't deadly but it wasn't shallow, you were glad it was who it was taking care of you right now. königs hands were huge ─big enough to cover yours if they were formed in a fist─ but he was cautious with them.

making sure that he didn't graze your injury or press to firmly when he applied a disinfectant. hell, you even told him to pull the medical tape tighter when he was placing it over the fresh gauze, weary of causing you any discomfort.

the full moon is in blossom, just in the window's view tons of thousands of stars shine over you. at this you perked up, a small grin appearing on your lips.

"Hey König, full moon." he tore his eyes away from your torso to see your lovely features attending to the moon's glow, full of glee. it was contagious, he smiled to himself.

"Yeah," he trails off, his light blueish green eyes focused on your face rather then the afore mentioned object of your attention. god, he wished you gazed at him like that, like nothing else mattered. like, he was all that mattered. "The chopper comes tomorrow morning, 0600 hours sharp. you should get some rest."

he returns to professionalism as he packs up the first aid and stands up, "G'night König," you pause, sleep overcoming your senses, but you push a kind smile to appear. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it, rest well." and he walks off to the room he was in, vanishing in the shadows of the abandoned building as you gather your remaining strength to go sit in the open 'living' room succumbing to heavy eyelids and a big yawn.

★ all works belong to @urfavslav , do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. thank you !

#konig x reader #könig x reader #konig modern warfare #könig modern warfare #könig #konig #konig call of duty #cod mw2 fic #cod mw2 x reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #cod comfort4hurt #urfavslav stories !

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sukunasweetheart · 2 years

Text

Lullaby for the Past

Office au Sukuna x fem!reader

Synopsis; Reincarnated as a human, Ryomen Sukuna - the former king of curses - is now just a perpetually tired office worker living in a world free of curses. His dreams are haunted by visions of his past life, despite not actually retaining any of these memories himself. These nightmares have surrounded him since childhood and nothing he does seems to do any help, so he’s given up and has learned to live with the restless nights, the lack of sleep and the moodiness. That is, until a series of unexpected incidents occur with the newly transferred employee - Y/N.

13. He Resides Within

Word Count: 3k

8AM in the morning, Y/N got off the phone after calling in sick for work. She might’ve overexerted herself from the abrupt exercising. There were numerous aches rippling throughout her body, and a fever was currently boiling her blood, making it difficult for her to think straight.

“Maybe I should just stay home. With you,” Sukuna clicked his tongue as he helped her down to her place, and then into her bed. Over the course of a few days, she’d been spending her nights at his apartment. Even in the duration of her illness, she felt a bit embarrassed about her home being in the mess that it was, due to how she hadn’t been bothering with the clean up.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N weakly chuckled as he rested her blanket over her body. “The office would get too busy if both you and I were missing.”

He gave her a smile that let her know he agreed with her, but also showed concern.

“What about medicine? Should I quickly get some right now?”

“I’m pretty sure I have enough in my cabinet,” she told him, shaking her head.

Sukuna sat beside her on the bed for a few moments, not wanting to leave her side.

He closed her window blinds for her, and then began walking out the door. When she called out his name again in the split second before he could close her door, he stopped in his tracks. There was a little pause before she spoke again.

“You should get going. This is my chance to sleep in for once.”

He gave a short laugh and nodded, pressing a kiss onto her hand afterwards.

“I’ll be back.”

“Drive safely.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

Sukuna checked and rechecked the clock on the wall, again and again. Was the day always this long? God, why did time have to go so slowly, on a day like this? Looking at your empty seat beside him made him sigh and grit his teeth. He wanted to abandon the office and just rush home.

It was one of those days in the office; where his back seemed to hurt no matter what position he sat in, his clothes stuck onto him in an uncomfortable way, and that constant, loitering feeling of restlessness seeping into his actions - whether it was in the form of him bouncing his leg, tapping his foot, or fiddling with something in his hand.

The others whispered to each other, pointing out his obvious shift in mood just from her absence at work.

They’d insisted he ate with them in the cafeteria, as he usually always ate lunch alone with Y/N during breaks. Now, food doesn’t taste the same without her. Ugh, he thinks, that sounded corny as shit.

“Sukuna, you’re… how do I say this…you’re hard to read, but easy to read at the same time.”

His spoon stopped midair as he made a face of displeasure towards Suzuki.

“What’re you trying to say?” Sukuna asked, looking clearly unamused.

“Nothing, sir.” The rest of the group held in their laughter, for fear of death.

As soon as he’d finished his meal, Sukuna stood up from his chair and rushed to return his tray after saying his thanks towards his coworkers. Perhaps if he could finish work fast enough, he’d be able to get off a little earlier than usual. With that in mind, Sukuna went forth to his desk to continue his tasks for the day as he held a little hope in being let off a little earlier.

Back at home, Y/N had woken up from her extra hours of sleep, but was still delirious from her fever. A throbbing feeling rippled through her head and this made even going to the toilet seem like a farfetched journey. She missed him already. She wished he was here to nag her to take her medicine. Looking at the clock, she saw that it was already 1pm. Y/N had taken her medicine in the morning without really eating much, and she’s about to do the same for lunch, too. It’s too bothersome.

And it’s always in times like these, where the house feels so cluttered and messy. Strewn clothes on the floor, books she’d discontinued reading at some point being everywhere except in the shelves where they belong, and some visible strands of her own hair being on the ground. Vacuuming was her least favourite house chore.

When everything feels this unorganised and unsightly, Y/N can’t help but feel like she has to quit. It’s all too much. And she didn’t feel like doing anything. She felt her eyes closing up again.

And she drifted in and out of consciousness, for the next couple of hours.

Oh, well. She thought to herself. I’ll just go back to sleep.

I’ll sleep, and if I’m lucky, maybe the feeling will go away, she childishly hoped.

Y/N’s mind remained dormant, but rather than in a peaceful way, it felt more like it was stuck limply writhing in the mud - slow, and difficult to move. It clung to her skin, and clumped up in her hair. Her blanket felt hot and heavy.

In the far distance, there seemed to be a distinct noise ringing in the background. Somebody was beginning to slowly drag her out of this mess. The ringing of that same noise was becoming more deafening, and Y/N opened up her eyes halfway.

…Who’s there? So noisy.

She closed her eyes again.

“Y/N, it’s me. Open up.” She perked up when she heard that voice.

She must’ve stood up too fast, because after the first few steps towards the door, she collapsed onto the floor with a loud thud. He must’ve heard it too, because he quickly grew concerned.

“Hey! You good?” Sukuna asked, frantically trying the door handle.

Hissing, she rubbed at her sore knees and stood back up again to open up for him. Once that damn door was out of the way, Sukuna looked her up and down for any sustained injuries before pulling her into his arms, not minding her dishevelled hair and sweaty skin.

“My bad. I forgot to take your keys with me this morning,” he apologised, patting the back of her head.

“Your fever still hasn’t gone down. Did you fall over on your way here?”

“Yeah,” she croaked out, chuckling weakly, embarrassed to admit so.

He didn’t seem to find it too funny, and instead immediately guided her back to bed.

“I wanna be somewhere where I can hear you moving around better.”

Sukuna asked her where the medicine cabinet was, and once he was back, he slapped a cold compression onto her forehead.

“I checked the sink and bin. You didn’t eat anything while I was gone, doll?”

When Y/N shook her head, he sighed and lightly pinched at her cheek.

“Hold on. Let me whip up something quick.”

When he stood up to leave again, she caught him by the hand, and told him she wanted to be on the sofa.

So now Y/N was laying on the sofa, watching her favourite comfort film while she listened to the sounds of Sukuna working in her kitchen. When he said quick, he must’ve really meant it because not long after, she was getting called to the table for her first meal of the day.

“It’s not much. Just egg rice porridge,” Sukuna told her, placing the steaming bowl before her. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Y/N thought she wouldn’t have the appetite to eat, but seeing and smelling this changed her mind entirely. She thanked him as he took a seat before her and put a spoonful of the porridge to her lips - only to retract immediately from the scorching heat.

She chuckled as Sukuna gave her a look that meant told you so, as he took the spoon from her and started to lightly blow on it. Perhaps being sick wasn’t so bad if it meant that your boyfriend would take care of you like this. She smiled and nodded when he asked her if it was good.

Once he’d finished the dishes, he came back to her on the sofa, where she promptly stood up with the blanket around her shoulders.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“You first,” she gestured, “I wanna lay on top.”

Sukuna grinned and went ahead to lie down on the spot that was still warm from her body heat. Y/N then climbed on top of him, ear against his chest.

Though, there was a rather strange feeling lurking inside of her as she drifted away into a nap. Every thump she heard was drawing her subconscious closer and closer to an ambiguous location in the far distance.

“Feeling comfortable?” he said - fixing the blanket to properly cover her.

“Very,” she replied, having a content smile on her face as she closed her eyes - listening to the beats of his heart, along with the noises of the film playing in the background.

Once she opened up her eyes again, Y/N saw that she was surrounded by the colour red.

He looks down at her with expressionless eyes, from atop his throne that has vastly shrunken in size over the years. Tattoos are inked onto his face, and what he dons is an old kimono. Even so, judging by the pink hair and the familiar crimson eyes - he was unmistakably Sukuna.

“Sukuna? What are you doing up there?” she asked, looking up past the strange bones that made up his seat.

‘Sukuna’ remained silent for a long minute, before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I should be asking that question. What are you doing here?”

He’d always thought that he was no longer able to bring anybody else in here. Not after taking up this new life of his. She squinted her eyes at him, and an awkward silence pours over them for a moment. The weird thing about dreams is that no matter how bizarre things may be, you don’t seem to question them as much as you’d do in real life.

The hell is that supposed to mean? She thought to herself.

“You’re… not the same. You’re not the Sukuna that I know.”

“Great observation. You’re one sharp woman,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Are you the one causing his nightmares?” Y/N glared at him.

“I’d be correct if I said yes, but I also wouldn’t be wrong if I said no.”

“Well either way, I’m going to beat your ass. Do you know how much he’s suffered because of you?”

Sukuna scoffed at her and followed it up with a cocky smirk.

“Feel free. Why don’t you try climbing up here?” he mocked her.

This was one terrible dream. Her house slippers definitely weren’t suited for climbing a hill of skulls. He peered down at her with amusement, not moving an inch to help her out. She was nearly there, anyway.

On the last step towards him however, Y/N’s foot slipped and she was on the verge of tumbling back down to square one. He darted his hand out to grab her by the wrist, with a sigh.

“Just how did I end up falling for someone like you anyway?” he asked haughtily as he placed her on his lap, sitting back down.

“What do you mean? So you’re the same person after all?”

His eyebrows furrowed with indignance and he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

She sensed how strong he was, just by the way he rendered her immobile.

“You wouldn’t understand even if I told you.”

‘Sukuna’ held her tighter and stopped her from thrashing around so much.

“It’s been a while since I felt the movement of another’s body.”

Something relatively sad seemed to enter the atmosphere between them, as he continued to look away from her. Even his sullen face looked the same. ‘Sukuna’ feels like someone who has rather limited time, fleeting.

“...I heard you were a four-armed beast. I don’t seem to see your extra limbs.”

“That’s old news. I’ve weakened significantly.”

He looked around at his narrowed domain - well, only a fragment of what it used to be. And now, even this won’t last much longer.

“That's why I can’t raise my hand against you. His affection still flows through me.”

“Will his dreams stop once you go away?” Y/N questioned him.

“Who knows. I’m not making myself see those memories purposefully.”

“You keep referring to him as if he’s the same person as you.”

“I’ve gotten rather soft, haven’t I? Well, either way, he’s merely but another variation of me.”

‘Sukuna’ looked at her with a more softened gaze.

She stared at him wordlessly - before relaxing in his arms and resting her head against him. He looked at her quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s with the changed attitude?”

“I promised… that I’d embrace every part of him.”

“Is that so? How sweet of you.”

“I’m not sure if I like this version of you though,” she said with a grimace.

He only grunted in response and leaned back into his throne.

She stared at him without shame, with big expressionless eyes. He took the time to try and decipher the gaze, but she looked away at the last second.

“...Wait, you didn’t witness it? Aren’t you always watching from here?”

“Like I said. I’ve grown weak. I only see glimpses of my new life…For the most part, I’m stuck here doing nothing.”

“Tell me, woman. Am I happy out there?”

“Must be boring. And lonely.” He merely scoffed at her again.

“Perhaps. But I’ll be disappearing soon. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“...I never said such a thing,” she pouted.

He let out a ‘hmph’ that sounded something like a mixture of both doubt and ridicule. His expression then softened for a moment, before he asked his next question.

It was an odd question to come out of someone like him. He didn’t look like he was looking forward to her answer at all.

“I…can’t say for sure? I’d like to think so,” she hesitantly replied. “Not to brag, but…you certainly seem a lot happier when I’m around.”

“You are quite amusing,” he said, tugging at her nose. “Though I don’t understand how my happiness can stem from anyone other than myself.”

He was used to being self centred and cold. Cold, despite the flames that he could create with his hands. Though, that was a long time ago.

“The ‘you’ out there understands perfectly well,” she replied quietly.

A long silence is lodged between them.

“Anyway, when can I go back again?”

“That’s not really up to me to decide. You’re the one that barged in here.”

Y/N looked up and around the area, looking for any emergency exits of any sort, but to no avail.

“What should I even say when I get back? That I met the past version of you? And talked to him?” she suddenly brought up.

“There’s no need,” ‘Sukuna’ told her, “I’ll be withholding your memories of me here. You’ll forget when you wake up. And you’ll only remember me when you’re in my domain.”

An expression of realisation ran through her face, going sullen as she uncrossed her arms before him. And then Y/N felt slightly uncomfortable at the reminder that she was currently in the lap of a murderer. She dared not ask him about that, however.

“That seems a little unnecessary. Why is it like that?” she asked curiously, crossing her arms.

“Use that little brain of yours. You think I’ll- he will be happy, knowing that all his dreams were real?”

Whether a person clings to their past, or the past clings to them - it is taboo, either way.

“Looks like time’s up.” He looked a little irritated and disappointed.

Before she could open her mouth again, Y/N was already back on the sofa in her living room. ‘Sukuna’, now alone once again, leaned back against the throne in his small, empty kingdom.

He placed a hand onto her forehead and roughly compared the heat of his palm with her forehead.

“My bad. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Sukuna told her, watching as she slowly rose from his chest, rubbing at her eyes.

“It’s alright. How long was I out for?”

“About an hour. How’re you feeling?”

“Much better.”

“Your temperature’s gone down, but you’re still a bit warm.”

He got up from the sofa and put the blanket over Y/N’s legs, telling her that he’d get her some water to drink.

And then, despite some protests from her end, Sukuna cleaned her place up a bit - picking up strayed clothes and tossing them into the laundry basket, and then vacuuming the area. She felt a little apologetic, but also refreshed at how less cluttered her living room felt.

“Hey, what’s this box? Do I push it back in?”

She turned around to see Sukuna gesturing towards the box from her storage closet, and a small panic ensued within her.

Later on, after the relaxing evening, Y/N fell asleep in his arms that night.

“Oh, please do… Um, I need to sort that out myself later on.”

Sukuna nodded and then pushed it back in using his foot, before closing the closet fully.

It had gone over her head completely. She didn’t even care about the things in that box anymore.

The box - which had been filled with objects and memories that belonged to her ex-lover - was soon disposed of, truly marking the end of her ties to her past relationship. Those memories had already gotten dull and dusty the moment she committed to the current love of her life.

She gazed at Sukuna with a smile, mesmerised, the morning she had fully recovered from her flu.

“How lovely you are.”

He seemed confused from the abrupt compliment, but his ears still turned a little pink. She hugged him as tight as ever.

Masterlist

Notes; my goodness, i apologise for being so late lmao

been a while, so this chapter may be a little confusing(?) because the end kinda stems off from a previous chapter

thank you for being so patient, im thinking of finishing this fic up soon so please look forward to it (tho it will probably take a while for me to write)

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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littletxt · 2 years

Note

So I got an idea for a request.

I have really bad night terrors and wanted to request caregiver Taehyun comforting you after you woke up from one being small?

~princess 🐰

💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛🤎🤍💛

Wc: 936

Taglist: @pinkheadflowers @sweetiehyuka @woonie-muffin @desatando-me @ethie @djdudjdjkw @chariottie @kiki-woo

Night Light

There’d been no particular reason for them to start back up. It could have been the most suffocating, heavy and humid summer heat. Or, maybe it was the stress of moving away from the security of the place you and Taehyun had called home for so long, along with a new job, new people you weren’t comfortable around and new names you’d have to learn. But more than likely it was the lack of time you’d had to regress, to be vulnerable and safe with your Daddy. It’d been weeks as you packed up your whole life to start over somewhere new. No particular reason for them to come back, but far too many.

Jumping out of his sleep, muscles tense and ready as his eyes searched foggily searched in the sea of black that was your bedroom, only lit by a single yellow, heart-shaped nightlight. Reaching out to find the switch to the bedside lamp at your first sound of distress, Taehyun was prepared to take on the world for you. Whether that meant putting years of boxing experience into practice with a swift bonk to someone’s face or taking the weight of your anxieties head on, he’d do anything for you. With no danger in sight, he relaxed for only a moment until another cry left your lips, poured then pressed thin, and you trembled and fidgeted in your sleep. A thin sheet of cold sweat covered your anguish-twisted features as your hands tightly gripped the sweat-damp fabric of the thin sheets you'd traded out from your usual comforter to cope with the hot summer nights.

Pushing down that deep ache in his heart he turned to you, stroking your reddened cheek and wiping the sweat from your brow.

“Princess….hey. Wake up, baby.”, he gave a gentle squeeze to your clammy, trembling hand before pulling you easily into his arms, rocking you softly against his chest until you woke. Breaking from the deeply rooted claws of your night terror, your breathing became frantic as you grasped, delirious, to anything and everything around you.

“Hey, hey! Daddy’s here… I’ve got you. I’m right her. Open your eyes, pumpkin.”, Taehyun spoke clearly, loosening the tight grip of his arms to allow you to look at him, watery, wide eyes rapidly shifting over the features of his face. The pure terror on your face, he couldn’t imagine, no matter how many times over the years you’d told him, how truly awful it’s hold must be. You’d think he’d have gotten used to it by now, the nightmares being more common on muggy evenings like this one. Though he never could, it did help that he knew exactly what to do to help you through it.

Taking deep breaths until you followed along, he squeezed you tight again, grounding you, bringing you back to him. When your ragged breaths calmed to short hiccups he loosened his hug and stroked your hair in repetitive, slow motions.

“Same one?”, his voice was soft and unfeigned, strained with emotion. No matter how badly he wanted to take your pain, he couldn’t. But that would never stop him from trying. A weak nod was all you could manage as you rolled over into his chest and cried. Not a little, but endlessly tears fell as you tried to hold back your sobs.

“Baby, hey. Sit up.”

Letting him pull you up to look at him, you sniffled with your puffy red cheeks and nose, grumbling a bit, knowing full well what was coming.

“You can cry, Princess. I know it’s scary. It’s so so scary and Daddy wishes he could be there to protect you each and every time. It’s not real, but it really feels like it is, huh?”, Taehyun leaned forward, kiss your forehead, continuing to stroke your hair as you nodded. You’d never needed to say much with him, he knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Daddy will always be here when you wake up. And Princess knows that Daddy would never ever let anything hurt you don’t you, baby?”, he giggled at the way you fought off a smile, finally relaxing for a moment. But only a moment, a distraught expression returning, your brows wrinkling, eyes watering once again.

“‘m sorry…”, your head fell, tears dripping one by one, each a blotted stain on his yellow shorts. Fully sitting up in bed with you he raised your head, holding your chin steady between his fingers. Those big brown eyes demanding your attention, but his soft, loving expression was ever more attentive.

“No, Baby. Never apologize to me for this. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is Daddy's job. and Daddy loves his jobs.”, he kissed your cheek, caring very little about the salt taste of your tears. Each line made you shy away, a blush creeping up on your cheeks., “I don’t want days off or holidays. I wanna spend every second taking care of you, Princess. That’s my job. I love you, pumpkin."

His voice grew softer, more tender as he spoke, caressing your heart in the safety of his love. Rubbing his nose against your cheek, now dry, he pulled you into his arms again for a brief minute. Imagining the sweltering heat was hardest on you, he knew his body heat certainly wouldn’t help. His natural, smiley expression greeted you, calm and tender-hearted.

“Now, let’s go cool you off with a shower, Princess.”

With another dutiful nod, a sniffle and an intertwining of his slender fingers between your own, you let yourself slip into that comfortable vulnerability, safe with your Daddy.

“Good girl.”

🧸End note: I know it took my forever, but here it is. honestly I was so afraid of how this would come out because I wanted it to be perfect for you 🫶 I love youuuu 🥺💛💛 I hope this was okay for my first fic in a while.💕

🧸Masterlist🧸

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