Anonymous said:Can you please do one where joker gets drunk and abuses the reader and hurts her but then he comes to his senses and says “no no no…” realizing he’s hurt her and then it ends with fluffy fluff? Sorry if this is long hahaa ❤️️❤️️🤗
The night was late so you could just call it very early morning. J had been at the club all night and left you alone at the Penthouse after a mission. You had showered to get rid of all the blood after shooting someone straight in the head and it splattered everywhere! Headshot.
When the clock was way too much past 2 a.m. you could hear the door opening and strange footsteps. Great.He was drunk. You were sitting on the bed with your arms crossed. It didn’t take too long before you saw him leaning against the bedroom wall with darkened eyes. ‘’Oh baby..*hiccup* you’re sooo sexy’’ He mumbled and seemed like he had ten drinks too much. It wouldn’t help at all to talk to him now so you let my anger slide by.
‘’Let’s get you out of those clothes and in bed’’ You cooed softly and wanted to take care of your man. You walked up to him and started unbuttoning the red shirt he was wearing. First he let you do it, but then he decided it was sexy. ‘’Let’s have rough sex’’ He giggled and barely managed to stand with his own legs. You met his eyes and tried to contain yourself. ‘’No. You’re drunk’’ You reminded him and then got his shirt off.
‘’Aw come on girl!’’ He yelled then tried to kiss you. Drunk J was the worst when you were sober. ‘’J stop it!’’ You hissed and stepped back, causing him to lean too far and fall against you. He caught himself mid-fall and soon his hands were on your shoulders. ‘’You’re sooo boring’’ He slurred and started to get angry. It honestly scared to see him drunk and angry.
‘’Calm down J. I’ll get you some water so you’ll sober up’’ You sighed and pushed his hands off of you. He gave you a deadly glare, but you were already running towards the kitchen. He sure was a handful. It only took a minute to grab a big glass and fill it with cold water and get back to the bedroom. J was on the bed, sitting at the edge and tapping his fingers on his legs.
‘’Here’’ You broke the silence and sat down next to him. He grabbed the glass and started drinking it a little. ‘’What kind of a cheap ass vodka is this?’’ he growled and a hiccup followed. Oh dear. ‘’That’s water’’ You let him know which angered him. The glass flew across the room and smashed against the wall when it was barely half full. The water and glass sprawled across the floor and left an ugly mess that you would have to clean up.
‘’J what the fuck was that for?’’ You groaned and tried to stand up, but he grabbed you wrist hard and pinned you on your back on the bed. Oh, even tho J was drunk, he was strong. ‘’Let me go’’ You tried to say as calmly as possible, but he was back at it again with the deadly look. J climbed above you and stared angrily in your E/C eyes with his big blue ones. They were dark from the alcohol, but hopefully the half a glass of water would clear his head a little.
‘’You’re always trying to fucking tell me what to do you stupid bitch. I’m tiiiired of it’’ He slurred somewhat drunkenly but his voice was getting loud and scary. Your heart jumped to your throat and the next thing you knew, he slapped you. Everything just happened so fast. Before you knew it, you looked at your side from the impact and felt a stinging pain on your left cheek, bringing tears to your eyes.
J’s hands grabbed your hair and he stood up, pulling you with him. ‘’J! Stop!’’ You begged and then tried to stand up so the yanking wouldn’t hurt so much. He was too drunk and angry to even think about this. ‘’Stop controlling me!’’ He yelled and then pushed you on the floor. You hit the floor, head first and it caused you to whimper in pain. J joined you on the floor and he straddled your waist so you couldn’t escape.
Fear had taken all over you. What the fuck were you supposed to do? Hit your boyfriend? He’d kill you. His hands found your throat and suddenly all the air stayed in your lungs and it couldn’t escape, vice versa with new air. J gritted his teeth and stared into your eyes. You tried to pull his hands away, but the longer he strangled you, the more lightheaded you grew. Also fighting back would be useless. You, Y/N were known for being a mastermind criminal, a good fighter and a skilled shooter, but this was different.
Your vision got worse and closing your eyes felt like the perfect thing to do. You stopped kicking and wiggling and even your grip at his hands loosened. ‘’No..’’ You heard his voice and then his hands were removed from your throat. He stared at you with panic obvious on his face, but you were too hurt to do anything. Tears rolled down your face silently and you could still not breathe in. You were in a state half awake and half blacked out.
‘’Y/N!’’ He growled with a worried tone and yanked his own green hair. ‘’No..no..no..’’ He started panicking and tried to think ,but his brains were still thinking slowly thanks to alcohol. You heard how he yelled at Frost at the top of his lungs which was probably ear damaging.Then he looked at you again and tried to get a response from you.
‘’Y/N’’ He said a little clearer, but the stank like alcohol and it was still powering his mind. ‘’Go..away..’’ You told him harshly with a weak voice. The lack of air and pressure on your throat was damaging - at least for a little while. ‘’Baby..I-I-I didn’t..I’’ He tried to speak, but it was messy as fuck. The door opened and Frost walked in, looking a little shaken by J’s loud call.
‘’I..I did..’’ J tried to explain, but he was unable to talk clearly. Frost looked at you on the floor, crying and bruising up and even bleeding from your nose. J sat on the floor, leaning against the bed and he seemed lost. On the inside he wanted to help, but his brains were telling him to do the stupidest things. Frost got down next to you and raised your head on his legs. After a few months of living with J, you became very good friends with some of the henchmen.
‘’Y/N, what happened?’’ Frost asked you and tried to make you speak. Your body was trembling and something made you feel anxious. J really scared you. So instead of talking, you pointed at J. ‘’Baby..’’ He pouted and tilted his head, looking like a puppy. ‘’Let’s get you checked. Boss, I think you should drink some water and relax a little’’ Frost tried his best to take control over the situation. Usually Frost didn’t boss around, but now that J was drunk and you were hurt, he kinda had to step in.
Twenty minutes later Frost was out of the penthouse. J had been in bed the entire time with water as Frost helped you to wash the blood and he checked if you had any serious damages. You had bruises in the form of fingerprints on your neck and then a bruise on your cheek, but otherwise you should be fine.
But it still shocked you.
J had never hit you. Never ever in your relationship, because the two of you were the crazy couple madly in love. WHy hurt each other when there was an entire world?
So walking back to the bedroom made you nervous. J was lying in bed and he seemed more sober, but sadder. ‘’J’’ You whispered and caused him to look at you. His eyes were directed to your bruises and you saw guilt on his face. ‘’Oh..Y/N I’m sorry’’ He started softly. Yeah yeah.
You joined him in bed and kept a small distance between you two. ‘’I don’t know what the fuck took over me. I still feel a little tipsy, but not as drunk as earlier. I’m really sorry. I hate myself’’ He groaned and tried to touch you ,but you flinched.
He was quite desperate. He seemed to have a headache as well. ‘’Please..cuddle with me’’ You pleaded because you were tired of talking. You knew he had been drunk, but it didn’t make you less scared of hurt. You just had to relax and tomorrow you’d have a looong talk. J let you snuggle up to him and then he put his hand on your back. You were nuzzled against his chest and his chin was resting on your head. ‘’I’m a dickhead..I’m really sorry doll. I won’t ever do anything like that to you ever again. If I do, I’ll probably shoot myself’’ He muttered with self hate obvious in his raspy voice.
‘’Just calm down..We’ll talk tomorrow’’ I sighed and then traced my finger on his tattoos which I often found myself doing. He nodded and I just tried to calm down and relax in his arms. For the first time ever in our relationship I was tense and nervous to be so close. But it was just a drunken mistake. Right? If not, I’d leave. But I tried to believe him. I kinda had to.
Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep to him whispering ‘I’m sorry’s and then the beating of his heart. In the end sleeping so close to him was still the best thing ever.
My Puddin might be rough sometimes ,but he loves me..
Author’s Note: I like this a lot more than I though I would. Hopefully you enjoy it as much too :)
It’s only 8 o'clock, but you already know that you won’t be getting any sleep tonight. As you lie in your bed and disconnect your mind from your body, your dream figure wanders through the subconscious of the people around you.
The first dream you visit is your neighbor’s. You always visit her dreams, to her knowledge. The two of you have even made a bit of a game of it, going on grand adventures before you visit others. Going from dream to dream is like going from one room to another - something so normal to you that you’ve never really thought twice.
One little girl is having a nightmare about a killer doll from inside her toy chest. You silently curse her parents for their family movie choices as you help her fight the iconic red-haired toy, but other than that, the dreams are all quite happy and enjoyable.
At least, they are until you walk through to a new room. As soon as the door slams closed behind you, you get a sinking feeling in your stomach. It’s pitch black, except for the distant glow of the aura of the dreamer. At first, you’re just walking towards him, bare feet making a light slapping noise on the cold stone ground, but then the screaming starts, making you run.
The boy is around seventeen with teary brown eyes, wild brown hair, and beauty marks littering his exposed skin. He goes to school with you, you realize upon quick inspection. You don’t know him, but you’ve seen him around with his friends.
“Hey! Hey!” You yell out as you pick up your speed, hoping to help him with whatever his subconscious is battling, but just before you can reach out and touch him, you’re thrown back, your body slamming to the floor so hard, that you’re almost knocked back into your body. The action scares you, in all of your year as a dreamwalker, never have you been denied access to the dreamer, which means this has to be all him.
Figuring it’ll be best to take a different approach, you stand slowly and get as close to him as you can and watch what he’s watching. It’s him.
He’s standing above a girl with wavy brown hair - correction, a dead girl with wavy brown hair. “You did this.” He says to him. The dreamer, the boy beside you shakes his head softly, “No, no, the Oni. I didn’t do it.” The other him sneers, laughing humorlessly, “WHAT COULD YOU DO TO SAVE HER!?” The person on the ground changes to a boy, another dead person, and the sneering version creeps closer, his figure twitching and vibrating.
“No, no, no. Move! MOVE!” You pound on the barrier in between the two of you, but he can’t seem to see or hear you. His eyes are flicking from himself to the body on the ground. “I didn’t kill any of them. This isn’t true.” His eyes are betraying his words though, as the leak steadily. “You didn’t kill them? Doing nothing is just as bad as killing them. What are you gonna do when it’s Scott, or Lydia? What about your dad, Stiles?” Continuously, you pound and scream, but your blocked out, so you do the only thing you can think of.
You summon your body to your dreamer’s place of residence.
Your body rises sleepily, eyes glazed over and head rolling, but legs moving as quickly as they can.
“WAKE UP! STILES, WAKE UP!” You yell the name you’re assuming is his as your body gets closer to it’s destination. Waking a dreamer can be dangerous during a nightmare, but now he’s beating himself up, watching as his cruel subconscious figure kills his friends without being able to do anything but cry and deny.
You’re about to wail yourself, but you feel your body in the house and retreat into it, never stopping as your legs push you up the stairs. You don’t know how you know which room he is, but you find it in the first try and slow your pace. Moving to his squirming body in his bed, you place your hands gently on his face, “Stiles. Stiles, I’m gonna need you to wake up.” He doesn’t wake, so with one hand still cradling his cheek, you place the other in his hand as you press your forehead to his. The process of combining your conscious forms only requires a close proximity to ones head, but you can’t help but make as much contact as possible.
The butterflies in your belly start fluttering like crazy, but you ignore it. This is not the time to develop a crush. So, taking a deep breath, you push yourself back into his dream, but this time, your hand is still in his. “Who are you? What are -” Shaking your head, you stand in front of him, blocking his view, “No one, but Stiles, I need you to wake up. Please. This is hurting you. Just, try hard, open your eyes. Please.”
It takes about ten seconds, and you’re almost worried that he won’t be able to do it, that he’ll be stuck, but he wakes, pulling you out of the dream with him. As you’re leaning up from Stiles’s face, you notice Sheriff Stilinski - who must be his father - standing beside the bed. “Friend of yours, son?” Realizing the predicament you’re in, you release Stiles, jumping up from his bed, “Sorry. I just - he didn’t know - we aren’t - He was having a nightmare.” You struggle to find a sane way to express to his father - the sheriff, with a gun - why you busted into his home and he found you in his son’s bed, touching him as if you’re old friends… More than friends.
Much to your surprise, the sheriff nods, “I feel like this is some kind of supernatural stuff I don’t understand, but thank you.” With his father gone, Stiles goes to speak, but you shush him, “Don’t. You need mental rest. Drink some water, maybe call one of your friends. I’ll um, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” You go to leave, but Stiles grabs your wrist, “At least tell me your name. Just your name.” You smile lightly, spent from the abnormal amount of rush and worry, “Y/N.”
I have a headache but at least I made my lipids notes! I also started my proteins notes, which I’m glad, because that means less for tomorrow - the proteins section is quite long in the textbook and I managed to do a decent chunk. It’s only ten o’clock but I’m calling it a night - my head hurts too much, and I’m thinking it could be from a lack of sleep. Yikes.
There was a small clock, ticking away on the kitchen counter. Every tick of the clock sounded a bit too sharp, a bit too much like a deadly sound. Your tired eyes glanced over at the small object, and you groaned, frowning against the brim of your cup of coffee. “Stupid o’ clock.” You mumbled, the bright light of the computer straining your eyes. The stairs creaked gently, and you glanced over towards the noise.
“Still up?” Spencer’s soft voice sounded like music to your ears. She had offered to let you stay at her house while your parents were gone. You certainly weren’t complaining. Ever since you were in the middle of a close encounter between A and the Liars, they had let you in on the horrible, huge secret that was A. You had decided to help them solve the puzzle. Of course, it felt exciting; tracking down this mysterious person, putting an end to their dark crimes, but you would be lying if you denied that the main reason you were doing this was because of Spencer.
You nodded, wiping your eyes and trying to appear more awake. You knew this was a loosing battle, but it made you feel a bit better. “I think I might have a lead here, but I could be wrong.” She frowned at you in concern, her eyes barely glancing at the screen. “(Y/n), I don’t want you losing sleep over this. You don’t need to stay up until two in the morning to help us, you’ve done enough.”
“I’m so close,” you replied, trying to type again. She gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard, shutting the lap top and pushing it aside. “You’re going to sleep, whether you want to or not.” You finally obliged, standing up sleepily. You were making your way to the couch that you had been sleeping, when you felt a hand hold you back.
“You’re going to sleep in my bed tonight.”
Needless to say, you were entirely confused. “You’ve been doing so much for me, the least I can do is offer you my bed.” You smiled at her, starting to thank her. She hushed you, pulling you into a hug.
It was absolutely incredible, to be hugging Spencer. She was quite a bit taller than you, so you rested your head on her chest. She, in turn, rested her chin on the top of your head, wrapping her arms around you. She smelled warm, like books and a burning fire and coffee with cinnamon.
You were happy to be helping the Liars with A, but you couldn’t help yourself from wishing that somewhere along the way, she would fall in love with you, just as you had fallen in love with her.
[DRABBLE] Boyfriend!Wonwoo: Taking Care of a Sick Wonwoo
Word Count: 3,329 Genre: So. Much. Fluff Warnings: None
A/N: We got this done before Wonwoo fell ill with gastritis, so we pretty much wrecked ourselves once we found out that he actually fell sick :”( Please take good care of yourself, child! -wonwooed
An obnoxious, incessant beeping slices through your abyss of sleep, and you groan, struggling to awaken like a drowning child gasping for breath. You crack your eyes open to greet dawn with lesser enthusiasm, exhausted from the near-all nighter you’ve pulled yesterday. Your hand reaches out to slam the alarm clock with a tad too much force than you’ve intended, rolling around in your sheets until you’re lying on your back with a tired sigh.
my problem is that i stare at the clock and don’t see the time I’ve wasted. i talk too much and too little. i don’t look long enough. i don’t pray genuinely enough. i am afraid of the consequences my bitter words cause, but don’t seem to have a leash on them. i am bewildered by the effortless way that some people just are and that is my problem. i envy too much, i wonder too little. i procrastinate to the point where I’m completely uninspired to do anything. i don’t stop to breathe. i don’t stop to see, even when the world’s at my feet. //
The dilemma when you want to answer asks and write, but you also really badly want to draw and you can’t decide which to do, so you just sit there and do neither until the clock is too much and you’re too tired to do any and just goes to bed all disappointed in yourself.
Character: Peter Maximoff (Suggested by @fandomkisses) + Charles Xavier
“Charles…” You are stared at the clock on the mantle, watched the way the arms ticked forward as time passed. The older man you’d called came to sit next to you on the sofa you’d found yourself sitting on…Charles had become a parental figure to you and to many of the other mutant teenagers and children that he’d taken in and you felt you could talk to him about most things without judgement.
You kept watching that clock, your brow furrowing, "Do you think…Is it possible to love too much? To love someone too much?” your thoughts on a young man with silver hair that caused you more trouble than you liked to admit, and that you liked more than you liked to admit.
“Perhaps, but who would know? Love to any degree will always hurt and whose to say loving too much is a problem compared with loving too little?” Love was a fickle thing, Charles knew that, it was something that broke people apart and put them back together, something that hurt and healed, something that no one really understood truly.
“What’s brought this on, mmm?”
“Peter…I…it hurts…to…to be close to him, to feel like I would give him the world, only to have him treat me like everyone else.” Peter treated you like a friend nothing more, he treated you like everyone else and all you wanted was to be anything but everyone else. You wanted him to like you too, but it was all so confusing and far too complicated.
“Love hurts. But, it doesn’t always have to be a bad sort of hurt…you could always talk to him, you know?”
“But that’s scary…”
“It’s always going to be scary, but sometimes…sometimes you have to find that courage and you have to face that fear because that’s the best option you have.”
Member: Jackson Wang Summary: You’re overloaded with work and need Jackson to help you. Genre: Fluff/Suggestive
Your fists clutched tightly into a ball as you grabbed some hair, your head throbbing with the same pain that lingered for a several days straight. Too much. You were always strong but now, with too much work on your shoulders, you felt almost at your breaking point. Endless seconds dragged on painfully slowly as each tick of the clock brought you closer to the deadline. The pressure was too much, too many expectations that loomed over you constantly. Suddenly, the vibration from your phone almost caused you to jump. Jackson was calling. You cleared your throat and smiled the best you could, trying to cover up your fatigue and depression over the phone. “Jackson..” You voice croaked, despite your attempts to sound at least normal. “Am I disturbing you?” His voice was both husky and soothing, a pleasing sound that comforted exhausted ears. “No… I was about to take a break from work anyway..” You paused, taking a deep breath, a silent stifling sigh for help. You wanted to cry, to desperately hang onto Jackson and tell him all your struggles. The feeling of hours spent solitude at your desk drained you and he was the only battery left. A tear escaped and landed on the note-filled paper below you, leaving a small puddle that blurred the ink sprawled words. “Are you okay?” This time Jackson’s tone changed, he must have heard your sigh. “Yes.” But you shook your head. Worried that you will relapse any time soon from holding the tears in, you said goodbye and ended the call all too suddenly. The light from the moon hung on the corner of your window as it observed over you constantly. You watched as if you were looking at yourself, desolated in darkness as the grey clouds erased all stars in the sky. The clock had only moved a few minutes, but to you it was already a lifetime… Knock knock. Your head jolted to the direction of sound, ears and eyes perking up in both curiosity and fright. You found your keys and inched silently towards the door. As soon as you opened the door you were engulfed by warm arms and greeted by a hard chest at your cheek. His scent was all very familiar, his voice was all you wanted, his touch all you needed. “Jackson-” You were silenced by two warm lips meeting yours as Jackson held a hand to you cheek and his thumb wiping away the tears that ran down from your eyes. You wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you, wrapping his arms around you while passionately leaving kisses on your forehead. He finally placed you down on the couch on his lap, his arms never left your body while he turned you to straddle him. “Your eyes look tired.” His thumbs traced over the bags that hung under your eyes. “…but they still look beautiful.” Jackson always knew what to say, always new the right buttons to press. You sniggered in response, something that seemed unnatural to you in a long time. You forgot how to smile properly but Jackson was here now, and you remembered how to live again. “Just relax..” His voice was husky and those were words that you loved to hear. You sunk closer to him, the sofa creaking loudly as the two of you collided into one. Jackson’s hand ran down the back of your spine, his fingers tracing around your hips. You smiled in response, now leaving kisses here and there on his lips. His platinum hair reflected the glint that shone against his dark eyes under his glasses, a look that demanded you. All of you. “Jackson…” You moaned his name “…I need to do my work..” But your body said otherwise as it grabbed him closer, his hard shoulders brought closer to yours. “Why don’t you do me instead?” He whispered against your ear in a husky, suggestive manner. Your face flushed a deep red, he was turning you on faster then you knew it. Jackson flipped you so you lay on your back on the sofa, his hands either side of you, showing his toned biceps as he took his shirt off. Suddenly, he froze and sat up to think to himself, earning a moan from you. “Wait here, close your eyes and let me get something from my car…” And before you knew it, Jackson had already rushed out into disappearance which left you in your own darkness with your eyes shut tight. You didn’t know how long Jackson was gone but when he arrived back, you lay on the couch in a deep sleep. Jackson chuckled deeply to himself when your light snores met his ears. Quietly, he placed his arms below your neck and legs and carried you into your bed to tuck you in. He pressed his lips on your forehead and whispered gently into your ear as his warm hand stroked your hair.
You know what I really wish was touched on in fic a bit more? PTSD and Survivor’s guilt. Megamind survived an actual apocalypse, one that he remembers with such detail that he can recall his father’s last words to him. But no one ever really goes into the emotional ramifications of going through something like that. (Not counting tossing in random references to the occasional nightmare, which is fairly common in fic) The only person who has even come close to including it (That I can recall off the top of my head) is Dal Niente in Cold Fusion where her Megamind can’t handle the sound of Roxanne’s alarm clock because it sounds too much like the panic sirens on his planet. Anytime he’s woken up by it he has an immediate panic reaction. It’s one of my favorite details in that fic because of how much sense it makes, there is no way he could be the sole survivor of something so major and not have heavy issues about it.
Also it has so much angst potential and god knows we all love our angst.
A/N: i did change the prompt a bit (i didn’t have tyler tell anyone) but i really hope this is what you had in mind!! also i’m very sorry that this took me so long to write and get posted, life has been busy lately leaving me not much time to write. but anyways thanks for the prompt and i hope you enjoy it!!
Tyler Oakley was a very busy person, it seemed like he was always traveling. So, it really only made sense for Dan and Phil to offer to let him stay with them when he was passing through London. They got along with him great, and he’s never been hard to deal with, so what could possibly be the problem with him staying one night in their flat?