Did You Imagine Your Own Tragic Death A Lot As A Child Or Are You Normal

did you imagine your own tragic death a lot as a child or are you normal

Patient

part one of my fifteen minute fic series - where I set a timer for fifteen minutes and write a blurb based off a prompt and a genre.

Today's pick: Nathan Bateman x Reader, fluff, denial of feelings

three...two...one...go!

Go away, he'd spit as you showed up at his door with a cup of tea and his breakfast.

I don't want to, he'd grunt when you suggested he take a day off.

Leave me alone, was scrawled in black text over his locked office door.

Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, you'd smile patiently in response, what a stubborn mule you are. He'd get riled up even farther, egging you to raise your voice. He'd prod and poke your weak points to start a shouting match, only to be shot down with a pat on the shoulder.

He wanted you to get mad. He wanted you to sneer at him, to watch you march off, bags in hand, never returning. He wanted you to leave.

More than anything, he wanted his chest to stop squeezing.

It's okay, you whispered when he angrily destroyed a laptop after a coding mishap.

You'll be alright, you soothed, rubbing ointment into his bruised knuckles.

Don't worry, you assured, hastily fixing the hole in his schedule that was driving him to panic.

Every punch he threw, every barb he spat, every cruelty he flung at you would dissolve in your gentle glances, your unwavering appreciation. He didn't know how anyone could put up with him like this. Give in, he'd glare when you deflected his spite again. But alas, you shone bright and refused to let him in.

Okay, he'd cede when you brought him lunch.

In a minute, he'd mutter when you reminded him of his sleep.

Door's open, he'd throw over his shoulder, hoping to see your face flit by.

Like Newton's Cradle, you fed off each other's energy, slowly taming to a comfortable neutrality. No more fights, no more shouting. Nathan resisted a knee-jerk insult and you gained confidence in your reminders. I care, you'd explain when he questioned your motives for the umpteenth time. It's not in my nature to watch someone suffer.

Come in, you offered when he showed up in a fit of terror.

I'm sorry, you said genuinely, listening to his scattering thoughts and crippling fear.

I won't leave, you laughed after he shyly brought up your absence.

How could you leave, when he'd finally opened his walls? His garden was growing, slowly, yes, but soon the flowers would bloom and he'd be okay. You would never miss out on such beauty. It was slow, careful, tedious, the way he warmed up. A brush on the back of your hand, then a strong grasp on your wrist. He'd let you whisper your lips across his cheek if he thought nobody was looking.

Come here, he'd plead when you shifted across the mattress.

More, please, he'd mumble when your hands rubbed his soft skin.

Don't go, he'd yearn when you mentioned a job in New York.

He was fragile still, a new leaf unfurling. You knew to be gentle, to hug him gently and murmur soft things in his ear. You never yelled, afraid his eyes would mist and he'd shun you with an angry huff.

your chest warmed when his hands would clutch you, finally brave enough to reach for what he wanted. His face was slack with sleep, lips twitching in a serene smile. It had been a good day; his work was finished and you'd made his favorite dish for dinner. He'd told you so after your lips were too kiss-numb to respond.

Love you, his heart thrummed when you settled back beside him.

I know, yours thumped, beating together in the cradle of your bed.

??? the style kinda came out of nowhere but we ballin

let me know if you wanna be on my taglist!

If I see this again i'll die - pt. 3

final part in the series ig unless i get pissed off again

overused commentary. if you make the main character too sassy it mucks up the pacing and the understanding. there's a fine line between snarky and pedantic. too much backtalk is annoying and not funny.

not using metaphors/figures of speech correctly. seriously, some of them are so wrong it's funny. 'little to the imagination' means 'revealing' not 'modest'. i see that alllll the time.

'yet' is not another version of 'and.' it is a conjunction like 'but' or 'however.' i'll prob do a full length post abt that cause it's pretty common to see incorrectly.

typos. i mean come on, just copy it into google docs and get rid of the red and blue squiggly underlines. it's not hard.

not formatting paragraphs. BREAK IT UPPP MY EYESSSS ARE SEIZINGGG PLSSSS 😭😭

xox that's all byeee

if i have more than 10 wips i will die

which means they either become my hyperfixation or i delete them

just got hit with the angst stick so get ready to fucking cry losers

thought: steven grant

we're all pretty aware Steven's autistic and has the energy of ten rabid goats, but I've noticed how he always needs to be occupied w something. his rubix cube, the zipper on his coat, he stims with his hands

hear me out hear me out

oral fixation??? probably??? not sexually but like I bet he loves chewing gum, lollipops, hard candy, probably sucks or chews his knuckles.

w you it only gets worse teehee

you know kisses that don't actually leave your skin? he just glides his mouth around ur face, nibbling a little bit. He'd probably space out somewhere around your cheeks, just so overwhelmed with how cute your pink blush is. he's suckle and nip until your face was like a tomato, forgetting for a moment that the softness on his tongue was a person, and a person who was squirming with shyness.

he'd lay off immediately, shushing apologies, but soon he'd wander back, this time nuzzling somewhere around your neck. it's not your fault, you're just so soft....