Hi I Just Binged Your Masterlist And I Fucking Love Your Work. That Is All.

Hi I just binged your masterlist and I fucking love your work. That is all. ♥️

OMG 😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH ❤✨💖❤ YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW.MICH I NEEDED TO HEAR THIS ❤❤❤❤❤❤

I often wonder what happened to authors of unfinished fanfictions.

Heyo great writer can you do Sherlock X daughter reader. Angsty please prompt 99 and 95 thank you

Added!

Perfect For Me (Steven Grant x Reader)

Words: 2.2K

Warnings/Themes: Angst,Self-hatred, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluff, light nudity (non-sexual)

Characters/Pairings: Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector

liavaleska asked:

Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are doing great. Can I request something where reader comforts Steven Grant when he is feeling insecure about his body? Ty❤️

A/N: Sorry it took me a while to get this up! But here it is and I hope you enjoy it. It came out a tab bit angstier than I intially wanted but I'm quite proud of this one! Let me know what you think :)

Tired eyes mindlessly watched the little goldfish bob around its tank. The only sound filling the apartment was that of the tank’s filter. Rain pattered against the windows. Each door that opened or closed in the building had her peeking at the door through the tank. It was a quiet evening. As it had been for the past few days, nearing two weeks.

Nearly two weeks of silence. All because the other occupant of the apartment was hardly around anymore. Something was up with one of the boys. She had hoped one of them would have confided in her. But they are alters of Marc Spector. Mr. Secret.

The notion of her husband keeping secrets saddened her. It wasn’t hard to suspect that something was wrong. Steven would be up before her and leaving for work earlier than usual. Before he would wrap himself tighter around her when her alarm would go off, begging her to stay in bed for a few more minutes.

He had also picked up the habit of jogging. At first, she had been happy for him; happy he had found a healthy hobby. But now she’s questioning how healthy it really is. The bags under his eyes darkened with the passing of each day. Getting up early, going on jogs, and working as Khonshu’s personal plaything, had to be tiring. Not to mention she didn’t really see him enough to confirm that he had eaten that day.

“At least you’re around, huh, Gus?” She murmured, chin resting on her palm. The fish swam into his pyramid. A groan left her as she hung her head. Great. Even the fish didn’t want to spend time with her. Pushing out of her seat, she decided it was time for bed. The clock on the wall read 1am.

A quick glance at her phone showed that her messages had been read. But there had been no response.

‘Hey, love. Just wondering when you’ll be home. Any ideas for dinner?’

Read at 7:30pm.

‘Hey, again, you’re probably busy so I wrapped up dinner for you. Chinese takeout, your favorite! Love you <3’

Read at 10:46pm

With a heavy heart, she typed out one last text.

‘Going to bed now. Love you, darling’

She didn’t wait for a reply and stuck her phone on the charger. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at the empty bed. This would be the sixth night in a row that she would be going to bed by herself. The cold, white duvet laughed up at her. Sniffling, she padded over to the closet and pulled out one of Steven’s hoodies, and tugged it on. His scent filled her nose but didn’t bring the comfort she craved. Rather, it broke the dam holding back her tears.

She wished she could help him. Wished he let her help him. Wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in whatever he was going through. If only he would just let her in. Her teeth bit into the soft flesh of her lip as she tried to stifle the sobs. Curled up on the bed, she hugged Steven’s pillow to her chest.

Keys knocking against the door had her freezing. The door slowly creaked open and heavy, tired footsteps entered the apartment. The sound of a duffle hitting the floor broke her out of her trance and had her shooting up.

“Steven?” The figure outlined by the light of the fish tank shuffled over to the bed, standing at the foot.

“No, sorry…” Marc said, voice low and, dare she say, sad. She quickly flicked on the lamp on her nightstand, beckoning him towards her.

“What’s wrong, Marc? Are- are you guys okay?”

Marc was silent for a few heartbeats, his silence giving her time to think of every possible thing that could be wrong. Steven doesn’t love her anymore, Khonshu’s asking too much, they have some terminal disease… Her lip wobbled more with each new possibility.

“No… No, we’re not okay.” Marc whispered, “Steven doesn’t want me to tell you… but I don’t think he’s okay.”

He sounded so tired, and his eyes didn’t even come up to meet hers as he spoke. Whatever was wrong, it had been going on for a while and it’s become too much for Marc to handle. With a frown, she grabbed his hand to tug him onto the bed.

While she wasn’t in a romantic relationship with him, Marc was still important to her. He was like a brother to her. Without him, she wouldn’t even have Steven.

“Tell me, Marc… Tell me what’s wrong,” she begged softly. If he closed the door now after letting her get a toe in, she might completely break down. He sagged forward with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

“I just wish I could have protected him better… All of this is my fault. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know this has been hurting you too, but I don’t know how to help him. He won’t eat; he runs until we have blisters… Hell, he’s been fronting during almost every fight and I can’t make him give me the body…”

It was as if once the words started pouring out of his mouth, they wouldn’t stop.

“The only reason I’m fronting now is that I think he was just too exhausted to…” The sigh that left him was far beyond his age. It was the sigh of someone too tired to continue. “You gotta help us, Y/N… You gotta help Steven.”

With a tear-streaked face, she nodded.

<><> 

Marc had showered and changed into Steven’s favorite pajamas before climbing into bed. Y/N lay on her side of the bed, wishing that it was her husband she was falling asleep next to. She wanted to hold him close, to protect him from the dangers of his own mind. She could only hope that when she woke up, it would be Steven kissing her awake as he used to.

Her sleep was a light and fitful one. An odd form of sleep paralysis. She could hear the sounds of their apartment, and Marc’s heavy snores next to her. But she couldn’t move. Worry and fear gripped her body like a vice.

Time seemed to still be flowing as one moment she was hearing Marc’s snores, then the next Steven’s much softer breaths. Unconsciously, her hand drifted toward her husband. Her love. Her partner who needed her help.

She couldn’t be sure if her hand ever touched him. Because it was his strained whispers that had her fully conscious. The lamp in the living area was lit and he stood in front of a full-length mirror.

“You overstepped, mate. I told you not to tell her.”

She blinked heavily, unsure if this was a dream or not. A quick hand over his side of the bed told her that it was not and that he hadn’t been gone for long.

“I don’t care! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here with a big bloody scar on our chest from that fight! Or the other dozen scars everywhere else!” His voice started to rise.

She couldn’t help but stare at his back as he whispered furiously into the mirror on the other side of the apartment.

“She’s not gonna… she wouldn’t want a human scratching post. Y/N deserves more than… this. I mean, look at us…” He inhaled a shuttering breath. His strong hands gripped the edge of the standup mirror. “A million scars, rubbish bags under our eyes… gross stretch marks, unflattering dad bod.”

His final whispered confession had her finally jumping out of bed.

“I just wish I could be the man she deserves.”

She gave him no time to react before she slammed into his back, wrapping her arms around his middle and bunching the fabric of his shirt in her hands.

His breath caught in his throat, shame filling him. He could feel her sobs more than hear them. Gods, he made her upset. That had been the last thing he wanted to do, but Marc’s words from earlier rang through his head.

“You’re hurting her. Leaving early, coming home late, not making love with her, and keeping the lights off when you do. It’s hurting her. She told me so.”

A sob forced its way from his throat, and hot tears fell down his cheeks. His teeth bit harshly into his lip as he bowed his head, unwilling to look at the reflection of Marc’s pitying look.

“I’m so sorry…So, so sorry.” His hands grasped hers over his chest, right over the scar that had started this whole thing. She shook her head, whimpering into his shirt.

“No, please, Steven.” She took a shuddering breath, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not mad; or upset with you… I’m upset for you.”

His eyes screwed closed, his lips pressed into a line to suppress his cries.

“I wish I could take this pain away from you. I wish I could love these thoughts out of your mind. You do such an amazing job of protecting me; I wish I did a better job at protecting you.” She pulled her hands from his to drift to his sides and gently turned him to face her.

He kept his head bowed. The shame, the self-hatred, the ugly expression on his face, it wasn’t something she needed to see. The flinch he gave when her gentle hand cupped his cheek was uncontrollable. Her hand dropped back down to her side.

“Steven, let me help you. Whatever you’re trying to keep from me, whatever it is you are trying to hide, I will still love you. Nothing will ever make me not love you; nothing will ever make me think you are undeserving. You are the only man in this entire universe that I will ever love.”

He didn’t flinch when her hand touched him this time. Instead, he pressed his tear-stained cheek into her palm. They both let out heavy breaths. A hand littered with scars he hated so much, gripped her waist. The other, just as scarred as the right, cupped the back of her neck and he brought their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you, love. I just... I don’t know how to… how to let someone help. But I know I need it.” Steven swallowed the lump still stuck in his throat. “I am truly fortunate to have you be the one to help me, though.”

“I’m even luckier to have you,” She whispered before leaning forward to press her lips to his. His grip tightened and he pulled her flush to his chest. Flames followed in the wake of her fingers tracing up his stomach to rest on his chest, lovingly stroking the raised skin of the scar. His heart was thundering and he was sure she could feel it under her fingertips.

Salty tears blended on their skin, hiccupping sobs breaking from his sweet lips. As if touching glass, she wiped his tears away, cooing and shushing him. Chocolate eyes locked with hers. Walking backward and not breaking eye contact, she tugged him by the hand towards the bed. Steven followed obediently while wiping his tears with his sleeve.

The bed was cool against her skin as she leaned against the pillows, opening her arms for him. The air was thick with tension as he stood still, watching her. The stifling air was broken when he pulled his shirt over his head with shaking hands. His body is on full display in the dim lighting. While the suit heals wounds, it doesn’t erase scars.

It didn’t seem possible, the amount of love and acceptance in her gaze. It made his breath catch in his throat and warm goosebumps break out over his skin. Wishing for him to be in her arms, she made grabby hands for him. The action made his lips quirk up.

Slowly, he crawled in between her legs and she sat up to wrap her arms around his middle. Soft lips ghosted over the scar as her hands smoothed over his sides. His head was nuzzled into her hair and his arms wrapped around her back.

After breathing each other in, she leaned back and guided him to rest his head on her chest. His strong arms constricted around her middle. Her socked foot caressed his calf while her lips kissed the top of his head.

“If I get too heavy, I can move.” He couldn’t help but mumble. Gentle fingers carded through his hair and trailed down his back. Painted nails lightly scraped over his skin, leaving a trail of more goosebumps.

“If you dare move, I’m going to handcuff you to myself and swallow the key,” she threatened.

Steven let out a breathy chuckle and relaxed more into her. The patterns she was tracing into his skin were hypnotic and slowly, his eyes began to drift closed. A low sweet hum filled his ears.

As he focused on her fingers, he realized she wasn’t just doodling random patterns. It was letters. Words.

‘I love you’

‘Perfect’

‘Strong’

Tears pricked his eyes once more. He tilted his head to press a lingering kiss to her collarbone.

“I’ve got you, Steven. I’m not going anywhere. Not when I’ve got the perfect man for me in my arms.”

I suggest you change your username, miss, because your fanfictions, are most definitely NOT shit. you are a wonderful writer, and I hope you never stop. :)

You're too sweet! Thank you so much 😘🥰

I hope I'll have more time to write soon.

In Your Hands (Draco Malfoy X Reader)

Request: Yayyy Potter fan~!!! I was wondering if you could do a Reader x Draco where the reader is super super super shy and soft and just a pure ball of innocence and purity (Like ya wanna hug them cause they so smol and pure) and many love the reader but their heart is set on their lovable boyfriend Draco??? Just pure pure fluff :3 thank you 💞💞💞

Words: 1048

Characters/Pairings: Draco x Reader, Fred Weasley, George Weasley

Warnings: Fluff, my man.

A/N: I’m sorry for my long absence. I’ve been going throw some stuff and writing honestly just seemed like the hardest thing to bring myself to do. But I’m working on bringing myself back and will try to fill the requests I still have. Thank you for your patience. 

The small figure of the Ravenclaw moved swiftly through the crowded hallways, classes were over and they had a date with their recently obtained boyfriend after. They smiled to themselves at the thought of the blonde Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy never seemed like the type to give a shy Ravenclaw any attention, especially a half-blood as they were. But after being paired up in potions, both of which excelled at, Draco was singing a different tune.

That is to say when they were alone. No one knew of their recent admission of feelings nor the fact they were even friends. It wasn’t as if Draco wanted to hide the fact that they were together, but he didn’t want word getting back to his father. 

No doubt the elder Malfoy would force them apart, breaking both the teenagers’ hearts. And (Y/N) was content with the secret courtship, as long as they had him in the night, then they could wait until they graduated. Then, they’d run away from the Malfoys and live together in a cottage in the country. 

Lost in thought, (Y/N) didn’t see the tall figures coming toward her until she ran into one. With a squeak and a deep blush, the Ravenclaw jumped back and apologized.

“I-I’m-I’m so sor, sorry!” Their head was bowed so all they saw were two pairs of tattered trainers. 

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s no problem!” The voice of Fred Weasley sounded above her, to the right.

“Yeah, we know we’re so magnetic that you couldn’t help but bump into us!” George was on the left.

Looking up, (Y/N) saw the two with charming grins on their faces, hands in their pockets with their sleeves rolled up. Truly an attractive sight. If her face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now.

These two were very popular. So popular that (Y/N) didn’t even know that the two knew their name. They were just a reclusive Ravenclaw after all. They always had people around them so it wasn’t surprising that they had a crowd of friends behind them. 

“U-Um….” (Y/N) didn’t know what to say. Having this many eyes on them sent their blood rushing to their face and the breath to leave their lungs. Their words stuck in their throat.

“We’re all going down to Hogsmeade, want to join us?” Fred asked with a grin.

“We’ll even treat you to a butterbeer! Sounds fun, yeah?” George added. 

How do you say no? They can’t say they have a date already; they’d ask with who. And they can’t say no because they have to study, that would make them look like a stiff. And just saying no would be rude in general. Oh, Godric. Since when was there such a lack of oxygen in the castle? 

“Don’t you Weasleys have anything better to do?” The voice behind them sent their heart soaring. Draco! They schooled their features but couldn’t quite hide the glimmer in their eyes. 

“What was that, Malfoy?” Fred glared over (Y/N)’s head at the younger boy. 

“You heard me. Back off, (Y/N) and I have a project for Potions to work on. And I’m not going to fail because of some red-headed pricks.” Draco laid a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder in a possessive way but was rather gentle. 

“As if someone like them would want to hang out with a prat like you!” George crossed his arms and widened his stance. It seemed like things were about to get ugly. 

“W-wait.” Their voice was just above a whisper, but they managed to get the three boys’ attention. “I-I prom-promised Draco I’d help tonight.”

The twins deflated and looked at each other before shrugging. 

“Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where our common room is,” They said together.

“They won’t,” Draco mumbled as they walked away. (Y/N) sighed and grabbed his hand, after making sure no one was around.

“Come on, Draco.”

After the incident, Draco led them to an empty classroom. Well empty of desks and chairs, but was filled with floating candles, cushions and blankets. The entire room was cozy as a fire crackled in the fireplace. Small snacks and fruit were spread out on a tray in front of the cushions.

Draco had them sit amongst the cushions, with them in between his legs. Their back rested against his chest as he ran his fingers through their hair. Their face was crimson as he whispered in their ear. 

He didn’t want to let them go. He never had anyone who showed him so much affection and love like they did. He wanted to show them how much he appreciated them choosing him. No one ever chose him. At least, just for the sake of him. Either people avoided him for who they thought he was, or they befriended him for the power of his parents. It was never just Draco. 

In their time, they spoke of nothing and everything, of time and space, and of music and magic. Together, they dined on strawberries and butterbeer, letting the alcohol warm their veins, along with their complete adoration for the other. 

(Y/N) was comfortable here. In Draco’s arms. Upon first meeting Draco, they didn’t know what to make of him. They, of course, were terrified of meeting someone new. Let alone someone with such a shady family reputation.

But (Y/N)’s mother always told her to never judge a book by its cover. And they are so glad that they didn’t. Draco was sweet and considerate. Always taking care to not pressure the nervous Ravenclaw. Even when they first met, he was nice. As nice as he could be in the eye of the public. So, he basically ignored them, while slowly falling in love with his Potions partner. 

His grip tightened around their waist, his forehead dropping to their shoulder. “Draco? Are you alright?” (Y/N) inquired, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. He caught the appendage and laced his fingers with theirs. Looking up, he locked eyes with his partner and kissed the back of their hand. Their face was red with hot embarrassment. 

“I love you.” He pressed another kiss to the inside of their wrist. Then their palm. A kiss of adoration and desire and one to symbolize that his heart is in their hands.