#but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent.

[echo-riot]

✞⛧Sevika/Abby/Ellie if you cheated on them ✞⛧

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angst m?

✞⛧ Sevika ✞⛧

✞⛧ Sevika doesn’t react right away. She’s too angry, too betrayed to speak. The silence between you two feels suffocating. She just stares at you, her grey eyes turning cold like metal, her jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear her teeth grind.

✞⛧ She’ll act like it doesn’t bother her at first. She’s tough. She’s not the kind of person who lets things like this get to her. But the truth is, it cuts deeper than any blade. The realization that you—her person, her ally, the one person she’d let in—would do this to her? It’s too much. It’s a betrayal she can’t shake off.

✞⛧ Don’t expect her to shout, to throw things, to cry. Sevika doesn’t cry. She’ll leave instead, disappearing for a few hours, but when she comes back, she’s colder than before. Her metal arm will be clenched tight, and her voice will be low, almost a growl, when she speaks.

✞⛧ She’ll corner you in a room and ask in the most dangerous tone possible, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I’m that stupid?” But there’s no yelling. It’s all calm, controlled rage.

✞⛧ Sevika will demand answers, but she won’t beg. She’ll force you to say the truth, to admit it, and when you do, her gaze will be so intense, so full of pain, that it’ll break your heart to see it. But she won’t show the hurt on her face. No, she’ll mask it with anger, with disgust.

✞⛧ She’ll remind you of everything she’s done for you. All the times she protected you, fought for you, killed for you. How she made you hers in every sense of the word. But now? Now you’ve thrown it all away for someone else. For what? A stupid mistake?

✞⛧ Sevika won’t scream. She won’t make a scene. But her body will shake with fury, her fists clenching at her sides. If you don’t beg her to stay, if you don’t apologize properly, she will walk away. Not even a backward glance.

✞⛧ You’ll feel the weight of her absence for days, weeks, months. When you come across her in public, you’ll see the way others look at you with pity, knowing what you did. But Sevika? She’ll act like you never existed. She’ll keep her distance, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing her hurt.

✞⛧ She won’t immediately forgive you. It’ll take time. If she does forgive you, it’s not going to be easy. She’ll keep you at arm’s length, never fully trusting you again. And when she does decide to let you back in, there’s no guarantee you’ll be the same person you were before. You’ll have to prove you’re worthy of her trust again, and that won’t happen overnight.

✞⛧ If you beg for her forgiveness, don’t expect it to be given easily. Sevika’s pride won’t let her give in that quickly. She’ll make you work for it—show her you’re sorry, prove that you won’t do it again.

✞⛧ She’ll probably stop calling you “hers” for a while, at least until she knows she can trust you again. You’ll feel the sting of her indifference every time you see her with someone else, every time you hear her laugh with someone else.

✞⛧ But you know what’s worse than her coldness? The rare moments when she lets her guard down. When she finally speaks to you, when her voice cracks with the emotion she’s been holding back. That’s when you realize just how deeply she was hurt. That’s when the guilt eats you alive.

✞⛧ If you think Sevika won’t find a way to punish you, you’re dead wrong. She might not do anything overt, but she’ll make sure you feel the consequences. A cold shoulder. A brush off. A reminder that she’s a force to be reckoned with—and you’re not the only one who can be ruthless.

✞⛧ Sevika won’t apologize for anything, but her actions will eventually speak louder than words. If she’s willing to take you back, she’ll show you in the way she holds you when she thinks you’re asleep, in the way she keeps her arm around you when no one else is around. But even then, there’ll always be a part of her that’s guarded, that’s holding back. Because you’ve proven that even the strongest walls can come down. And she can never forget that.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

✞⛧Abby ✞⛧

✞⛧ Abby finds out in the worst way possible. You think you’ve been subtle, but she’s been watching, quietly observing every small change in your behavior. She notices the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes anymore, the way you avoid her touch, the way you get quiet after your phone buzzes. She knows. She always knows.

✞⛧ When she confronts you, she’s calm. Too calm. It makes your stomach drop because you know that when Abby is this still, this composed, it means she’s broken. Her voice doesn’t shake, but you can see the hurt in her eyes, even if she tries to hide it behind that stoic, cold façade.

✞⛧ Abby won’t scream. She won’t yell. She just… stops. She’s quiet for a long time, and that silence feels like it stretches on forever. It eats away at you, because the worst part is that she’s not angry—she’s disappointed. She’ll never yell. She won’t even beg you to explain. She’ll just leave. And that will hurt more than anything.

✞⛧ When she walks away, it feels like everything in her life just crumbled. All the walls she built to protect herself, everything she sacrificed, was because she trusted you. And now it feels like all of it is gone.

✞⛧ You’ll try to apologize, to explain that it was a mistake, but Abby’s not stupid. She’ll cut you off before you can even finish, her eyes sharp like knives, “Don’t you dare. I’m not stupid. Don’t make me regret ever giving you that trust.”

✞⛧ She won’t leave immediately, but she’ll pull away, emotionally, physically. Her touch? Gone. Her warmth? Gone. You’ll feel cold, like you’re just a ghost in her life now.

✞⛧ Every attempt to make things right will feel like it’s hitting a brick wall. You’ll buy her gifts, write her notes, try to touch her hand… but nothing works. She doesn’t want your apologies, she doesn’t want your gifts. She wants the trust that you broke—and now it’s gone forever.

✞⛧ You’ll regret it. Oh, you’ll regret it so hard. Because Abby Anderson isn’t the type to let go of people easily. When she loves, she loves deeply. And when she cuts someone out of her life, it’s like she never even knew them.

✞⛧ You’ll sit there, remembering the way her fingers would curl around yours, how she’d soften when she kissed you, the warmth of her body wrapped around yours at night. And then it hits you: I fucked up. You threw that all away.

✞⛧ And the worst part? When she’s gone, Abby won’t look back. She’ll keep moving forward. She’ll survive, like she always does, but it will kill her inside. Because she thought you were worth fighting for. And now, she’s fighting against herself. She’s fighting to forget you.

✞⛧ Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. But every time you do, you’ll see the coldness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. You’ll see the wall between you, a divide she built to protect herself. She’ll never forgive you, not fully, and the pain of that will linger with you for as long as you live.

✞⛧ Abby doesn’t forgive easily, especially when it comes to betrayal. And now you’ll never be able to take back the damage you caused.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

✞⛧ Ellie ✞⛧

✞⛧ Ellie would feel a pit in her stomach, like someone just ripped her heart out and stomped on it. She doesn’t know if she wants to scream or cry, so she does both in her head while trying to stay calm on the outside.

✞⛧ She wouldn’t confront you right away. No, she’d need time to process. Maybe a couple days of silence where she avoids your gaze, her mind racing, but too hurt to speak up.

✞⛧ When she finally confronts you, it’s not with anger. It’s with quiet, devastated hurt. Her voice shakes, her hands trembling, and she’s trying to hold back tears. “Why? Was I not enough for you? What did I do wrong?”

✞⛧ She’s the type to think she’s messed up somehow. That she’s broken. Maybe you left because of something she couldn’t give you, maybe it’s her past catching up to her—her survivor’s guilt, her trauma.

✞⛧ The guilt would consume her. Even if you were the one in the wrong, Ellie would still find a way to blame herself. She’d second-guess everything she did for you. “Did I push you away? Was I too much?”

✞⛧ Her jealousy would become unbearable. Every time you talked to someone else, a dull ache would sting in her chest, knowing what happened. She’d try to act like she’s fine, but the weight of the betrayal would linger in her eyes.

✞⛧ If you tried to explain yourself, Ellie would shut down. She doesn’t want excuses. It’s too late for words now. She wants to forget everything and pretend like it never happened.

✞⛧ She’d probably push you away at first. Not because she doesn’t care, but because it hurts too much to love you knowing what you’ve done. She’d rather you hate her than face the possibility of being with you and feeling that same sting every time you touch her.

✞⛧ But deep down, she’d want you to fight for her. Not with words, but with actions. Show her that you’re sorry. Show her that you really want her. But she won’t admit it. Instead, she’ll act cold, distant, and self-destructive.

✞⛧ Ellie would start locking herself away even more. Her guitar would be the only thing that comforts her, strumming out painful, broken chords, her soul pouring into each note.

✞⛧ Every time she sees you, there’s this flicker of hope in her that maybe, just maybe, you’ll regret it, but it fades every time you look at her like she’s just a thing to you.

✞⛧ If you genuinely want to make amends, it would take a long time. Ellie’s not one to easily forgive, not when the wound is this deep. She’d need space to heal, but even then, she’d always wonder if you’d hurt her again.

✞⛧ She’d become distant, but in her quiet, fragile way, she’d want to be loved again—just not in the same way, because she can never go back to the naive hopefulness she had before. That part of her is gone.

✞⛧ The scars would remain. She could never forget, not fully. But she might forgive, in time—if only because, deep down, she still loves you. Even if it scares her. Even if it hurts too much.

✞⛧ But don’t be mistaken. She’s no fool. If you do it again, she’ll walk away. And she won’t look back.

[ughtyrell]

S2 Jayce away from his Viktor and falls for another

Fic where S2 Jayce is separated from his Viktor. He makes a great effort trying to get back to his Viktor, to find him, needs to because he needs him. Still, he meets another Viktor and he can't help but be drawn to him. His greatest strength and weakness will always be Viktor in any world or time. He can't help himself.

They meet, become close, fall inlove and Jayce spends less and less time trying to get back to his original Viktor. His project to find him is not abandoned but less time is spent on it because he was feeling hopeless. At the verge of giving up even as he continues to work.

Of course this is when his original Viktor shows up, the glorious evolved Viktor who has done so much wrong, still Jayce immediately drops everything and zeros in on him. His Viktor. He's amazed, he's scared, he runs to him and into his Viktors arms.

"Are you my Viktor?" Jayce says after crying in original Viktors arms, gripping him like he'd disappear.

Original Viktor looks sadly at Jayce, fondness and pity in his eyes.

"Oh my poor Jayce. To be stuck here for so long. I've been traveling timelines and world's looking for you."

Jayce shudders, a few stray tears running down his face but with relief. His Viktor has been looking for him.

"Come Jayce, time to go home"

And this is when the Viktor of this world interrupts, voice low, confused and hurt.

"Jayce...?"

And just like that Jayce remembers his Viktor of this world who he has been creating a life with. Who has just seen everything from the moment he ran to his original Viktor. Guilt, shame, confusion, love he feels all at once. His original Viktor holds him tighter and he sees original Viktor's eyes narrow just the tiniest fraction.

"Viktor..."

Jayce says looking from original Viktor to the Viktor of this world.

Please this idea won't leave me alone. The hurt, the angst and disaster this situation Jayce has found himself in. What shall he do.

I imagine the divide he feels. He's made a life with the Viktor of the world/timeline he's been stuck in. On the other hand his Viktor has been searching for him. Needs him because he has no one. And Jayce has been yearning for him all this time, even when making new memories with the new Viktor, he never forgot his original. The one who he has been through so much with. Though the same can be argued for the new Viktor. It was just a lot easier, softer memories than the former.

Worse if at one point Jayce says, "I never stopped trying to find my way back to you either Vitya" to original Viktor infront of this world's Viktor.

New Viktor thinking back to the time he asked Jayce about the project he worked so hard on when they first met and Jayce told him it was something close to his heart and personal. With a far off, heart wrenching expression so he never felt it was his place to ask. Assuming Jayce would tell him when he was ready.

I feel like this Jayce's original Viktor was corrupted by the hexcore, going around "healing people" and Jayce instead of trying to kill him. Talked to him. Forgave him and promised they'd live out Jayces life span together in peace. Then something happened and he ended up in the new Viktors world alone and confused.

Jayce and new Viktor calling each other teammates, husbands or something because Jayce couldn't bare to call another Viktor his partner.

If anyone has written something like this or does in the future, please tag me immediately.

PS, keep checking on this post bc I feel like I keep adding more shit that hurts me

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Every Part of You

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series

"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."

You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.

His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."

Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.

"You're so -"

He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."

You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"

He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."

Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.

You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.

Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"

"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."

"But?"

His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."

"Oh."

He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."

It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."

He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"

You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."

He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."

In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.

He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.

It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.

"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."

There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.

"I love you," you remind him.

He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.

You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.

Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.

He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.

Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"

He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.

You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he answers reflexively.

You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."

"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."

"Does it hurt now?"

"No."

You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.

"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.

You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[angelyuji]

yandere stanley and stanford pines somno thoughts :)

18+!!!

tw // somnophilia, noncon, dubcon, drugging, pls lmk if i missed any tags

sorry there’s a read more link, this one is a little intense so… mind the tws and tags pls🥰🥰

stan is not sneaky or quiet going into your room. he thinks he’s being quiet, but he’s not. after a couple times, he stops bothering. like it clicked for him that it doesn’t matter if you do wake up cuz either way you’re in his home and there’s no way out. no amount of screaming will save you either, like the shack is out in the woods.

the first time wasn’t on purpose, it was a heatwave and stan woke up around 2 am not being able to go back go sleep in the heat. sooo he goes to ur room to check on you, yk to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet or if ur awake like him. he’d go into your room and see the 4 different standing fans he bought for you turned on, and also see that you’re only sleeping in your underwear. the heat was killing you, so obviously you had to strip. immediately stan’s next to your bed, hand slowly messaging your naked chest. you moan a little in your sleep and stan takes that as a sign that you’re literally begging for him. like moaning??? in your sleep??? ok SLUT. same thing next evening, except stan goes farther. and like he’s been out of the game for so long yk so he’s just curious. and like it’s not his fault you were tempting him, he’s an old man. he takes a couple risks: kissing you, pushing a couple fingers into your mouth or hole to see how much of him you could take. by day 3, he’ll see that your body is being conditioned to respond to his touch and he’s actually gonna lose it.

your eyes flutter open, a moan falling from your lips, as you feel something press against your heat. “hey there, dollface.” stan grins at you and you jolt awake, trying to move away.

“stan, don’t! get-”

stan grabs your waist and pulls you back, cutting you off, “no point in trying to run, baby.” he flips you over, pushing your face into the pillow. he gets to his knees and pushes into you, stopping to feel the melting heat.

“s-stan p-please” you moan, muffled by the pillow.

“please what, sugar.” stan grins as you try to move your hips. he grabs a fistful of your hair, making you arch to look at him.

“please, please keep going”

ford is the sorta the opposite of stan like he couldve been doing this to you for months and you wouldve never known. like he definitely crushes up some sleeping pills into your food when you’re not looking. he knows what he’s doing is wrong and knows he should stop, but he can’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.

i feel like first time it happened, it was probably when you fell asleep in his lab. you had stayed with him to do some research and when you fell asleep, he decided to carry you to bed. the warmth of your body against his was enough to get him flustered, but when he laid you down, he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your mouth. and dude… he was immediately devastatingly horny like one kiss almost took him out. he definitely booked it out of your room out of embarrassment (even though you weren’t conscious to see) after this, he didn’t make eye contact with you or talk to you for a couple days. you end up confronting him about it and instead of telling you his feelings, he decided that he should just drug you to keep using you without having to vulnerable.

i feel like every time he does this, even if you’re not awake, he’s apologizing to you and making sure that you cum too. like he feels sooo bad for doing this to you, but like the guilts not gonna stop him. the only reason you ever realized is cuz he fucked up on the pills and you woke up to him pounding into you like a rabbit.

“f-ford, get off me.” you could feel every inch of him as he held you close. you try to push him off you, but instead he folds you in half, legs hooking his shoulders.

in this position, you could hardly think or breathe, he went deep and hard into you. as he gets quicker, he starts to mumble into your ear, “i can’t stop, i-i’m sorry, i’m s-so sorry.” he bites into your shoulder and you moan. “you just feel so good.”

for both ford and stan, once you wake up to them using you and you end up not telling anyone what happened, they’ll take that as a green light to keep doing this to you. and then it evolves from at night while you’re sleeping to the afternoon in a public mall bathroom.

(i kinda want to write about that now… but also… tutor!ford x reader… stan x babysitter!reader… im thinking thoughts…)

[omgfangirlland]

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

[suguru-getos]

Could you write a continuation of yandere satosugu where the reader lived and they try everything to help her get better and care for her?

| making up for mistakes | yandere satosugu x reader |

-> continuation of the first part: link 🔗

you had survived the almost suicide attempt you so carefully & yet so carelessly attempted. you were sure you weren’t getting up after this. damn it you made sure to hit your head hard, you could see blanks, you could see stars in your eyes until it all faded to a peaceful nothing-ness.

now, you’re awake again. nothing hurts. you know they must’ve told their friend shoko to aid in your injuries. you feel like you’ve woken up from a long slumber. unwanted as it may be… it does make you feel eerily refreshed. you stretch your limbs from the bed, they’re going to kill you for this. kill you for hampering with their property. oh well — at this point you’re fine with it. what’s it going to do? hurt you. pain is all there is they could ever offer anyways. maybe you can scream out and wish it gets over. that’s all you set your mind to.

you look to the side, the curtains are open and there is a little drizzle of snow. it brings a smile to your face. what if you hadn’t been kidnapped? it would’ve been so fun to hop into one of the lovely cafes you like & order some hot cocoa. put both your hands and wrap them around the ceramic of the hot cup and exhale in utter relaxation of the aroma the sweet cafe has to offer. oh… happy days.

its nauseating what your life is now, wrapping a blanket around yourself and checking down below. you are wearing clothes, decent clothes… not the sultry, slutty ones that satoru forces you to wear. you feel like you could throw up when the reminder occurs again. beaten up like you were nothing but an animal, throwing up in pain and anxiety--

"there we go! princess! awake! oh my god!" satoru comes in and hugs you tightly, his bulky arms wrapping against you, he doesn't let your mind have the time to panic. besides, satoru was... not the one who inflicted you that pain. even though he did nothing about it, in a moment of pure misery, your mind would latch on to him for comfort. "baby- you scared daddy, please don't do that ever again. fuck! i thought i lost you." you could hear the heartbeats on your snow haired man, they were ragged and reminded of the same panic you once bore.

"sorry." your eyes lack all emotions, just a soft murmur escaping you. the haunting realization that you were alive was eating you up. even so, it was your soul that had died. it's the dejected way you answered that makes satoru panic even more. immediately at your knees, leaning against your thighs and mumbling soft apologies, tears wetting your skin. "please baby, I'm so sorry, i should never have let that happen... you did a mistake that's all! you- you- pissed us off." he shakes his head, hugging you tightly.

your hands robotically landed across his hair, caressing. "it's okay, i did wrong, i understand."

your responses were making him nauseous, he hated seeing you in pain, but suguru always says its something that's needed. why is it needed? you're not an animal, are you? the ways with which satoru and suguru try to 'discipline' their toy they are delusional enough to call their lover is insane.

"i got breakfast, little one." now, your heart sinks. you hear the voice of the man who did this to you, mothering, now that his rage is faded into pure, eviscerating guilt. "you have no idea the joy it gives me seeing you awake." suguru hums, and you latch onto satoru, hugging him tightly. satoru's heart skips a beat. this was not the first time you had reached out to him, yet, you did it by your own. it gives him a sick sense of protectiveness. "he wouldn't do anything to ya baby, suguru loves you too." he reminds, looking at a devastated suguru.

"please don't hurt yourself again, angel" suguru hums, leaning in and kissing your forehead. it makes you sick to your stomach, how they treat you right now. you know that whatever you did yielded no results. and they are ever so careful about the same. you're pretty sure you'd have either of them by your side at all times.

"let's go and eat, suguru's made your favorite!" satoru chirps, happily holding you princess-style and going to the dining area. your eyes wandered to the other room on the way, the same room where this all happened, it's making you panic internally. the grotesque reminder of how they treated you. you're about to throw up again.

as soon as satoru puts you down, you run to throw up in disgust, nothing comes out except a few drops of water. your stomach is empty as is. a large, looming hand caresses your back. "I'm sorry, angel. please relax." suguru-- it's suguru...

"i'm sorry." you answered, "i am so sorry." you nodded to get back to the dining area, you should know better than to be with satoru. its not like suguru wouldn't do anything he wants anyways... you'd just like to have some comfort over it.

luckily for you, the breakfast went fine, you were eating quietly, while satoru just observed you. how uncomfortable you looked, the subtle shift in your demeanor. every tiny thing. suguru is essentially doing the same, gazing at your way and observing you. "you look beautiful." suguru comments, and you force a smile from the deepest pits of your psyche. "thank you, suguru."

you know he's ticked off, you need to call them 'daddy' and you're here, addressing them by their first names. sigh... they just have to help you heal, there isn't anything they can do about it really. they pushed you this far, and they should make up for it.

however, as days turn into weeks, satoru and suguru are forced to face the haunting realization that your mental and physical health is worsening. you barely eat, barely talk... you just, stare into the nothingness of empty spaces. satoru has avoided missions to take care of you. he is by your side, sleeps next to you, kisses your forehead, helps you take a shower. while earlier, you tried to at least pretend and work with it. answer however you could, talk to them, fake your smiles, now its nothing. you barely talk.

this time, satoru has a mission to take care of, but suguru is the one who's spending time with you. gently placing you on the bathtub, caressing your forearm, massaging it, decorating it with petals. "there we go little girl, there we go. feels nice?" he coos, and when you don't respond, sighs weakly. he wishes he could at least hear something out of you. when he sees you immersed in auto-pilot, he hums by himself; "yes, yes it is." he has to talk to himself in hopes that its you talking to him. "you know, me and satoru... we were thinking a trip to Italy sounds nice, or maybe Paris.." you used to love travelling, he hopes that would utter out a response from you. NOTHING comes out of you however. that makes suguru's heart break a little, "or maybe, anywhere that you like." he hums, sighing.

"angel?" he asks softly, leaning in and kissing your neck, maybe that would at least earn some leaning back. your resistance...

none.

"talk to me for fucks sake!" suguru snarls, glaring hard at you. you don't even flinch at that, contrary to your earlier flinching and tweaking. a sigh escapes him and then comes bubbling tears. he has truly fucked you up. the haunting realization finally hits him. he can't live with it anymore... it's choking the very fiber of his being.

the rest of the shower passes by in a haze, and suguru is quiet, tears dripping from his face. "what should i do so that you become normal again?" he asks again, pouting and begging with his eyes. no response...

he gets up after tucking you in bed. the dark circles in your eyes are an explicit example of how less you're sleeping. sometimes you wake up with irritating nightmares, screaming and crying. that's the only moment when satoru and suguru are welcomed by your affections.

suguru sighs, he needs to win you this time. or maybe... what's that called? stockholm syndrome?

or maybe, he needs to discuss with satoru about erasing your memory...

or maybe, he needs a curse that can shove your memory off and then they can date you.. from scratch...

either way, they're not leaving you. anytime soon.

[enderlovez]

out on the couch

Spencer Reid x Reader WORD COUNT: 1300+

Summary: You and Spencer have an argument, and in the heat of the moment, he says something pretty hurtful.

Content Warning: arguments, it's winter and cold, hurtful words, guilt

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

The argument starts over something stupid. It always does—not to say you fight with Spencer frequently, but when you do, it's always over something ridiculous.

Maybe it's the way he corrected you on something small—some minor detail that really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Or maybe it's the way you left your coffee mug on the counter instead of rinsing it out immediately.

You don't even remember the specifics. All you know is that it escalated fast, the frustration mounting between you like a growing storm.

"I don't understand why everything has to be a debate with you!" you snap, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Spencer's jaw tightens, his lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm not debating you. I'm just pointing out that—"

"That I'm wrong?" you interrupt, your voice sharper than you intended it to be.

"No, I—" He cuts himself off, dragging a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. "You're twisting my words again, Y/N. You always do this."

That does it. His tone is clipped, dismissive, and it slices through you like a hot knife. Your chest tightens to the point of pain as you glare at him, trying to hold back the sting of tears.

"Right," you say bitterly, your voice trembling. "I'm impossible to deal with, aren't I? That's what you're thinking."

It's cruel of you to say. Even in the moment, you know it's wrong. Spencer's eyes flash with irritation, and before you can take back the words, he says the one thing he shouldn't.

"You said it, not me."

The room goes quiet.

It's not the loud kind of quiet (you know), where tension hangs thick and heavy. It's the hollow kind (you know that, too), the kind that presses against your chest and makes it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your lips parted in shock, but no words come out. He doesn't seem to notice—or maybe he does, but he's too stubborn to back down.

Instead, he turns on his heel and storms off, his long legs carrying him into the bedroom. The door shuts behind him, not quite slamming but still loud enough to echo in your ears.

You stand there for a long moment, staring at the empty space where he stood. The weight of his words lingers, heavier than the argument itself. You swallow hard, the ache in your chest growing as the tears you'd been holding back finally spill down your cheeks.

But you don't follow him.

Instead, you grab the old throw blanket draped over the back of the couch and curl up on the sofa. It's not comfortable—the cushions are firm, the blanket thin, and the chills of winter seeps into your bones—but you can't bring yourself to go into the bedroom.

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

In the bedroom, Spencer sits on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

The anger that had burned so hot just moments ago is gone entirely, snuffed out like a candle. What's left is the cold weight of regret, pressing down on him like a lead blanket.

He knows he shouldn't have said what he did. He knows it was cruel, unnecessary, and completely unfair—especially when he could see the beginning of an apology on your face.

But at the time, it had felt like the only way to defend himself.

Now, with the argument over and the silence settling in, all he can think about is the look on your face when he said those words. The way your shoulders sagged as if weighed down, the way your eyes widened just slightly, as if he'd struck you.

The thought makes him feel a little nauseous.

He waits for you to come to bed, his heart sinking further with each passing minute. The silence stretches on, broken only by the faint hum of the heater kicking on in the corner.

You don't come.

Maybe at some point in his life, he'd have been grateful for the quiet. But now that he's spent almost every day with you when he's not working, listened to your quiet ramblings, it feels more suffocating than comforting.

You're comforting.

Finally, he gets up and steps into the hallway. The dimmed light from the living room spills into the darkness, and he follows it, an unfamiliar discomfort swirling around his stomach.

When he sees your curled up on the couch, trembling slightly, his chest tightens painfully.

You're lying on your side as to stay on the narrow sofa, your knees tucked up to your chest, the thin throw blanket doing nothing to shield you from the cold. He can see the way your shoulders are hunched, the way your body is curled in on itself, as if trying to make yourself small.

The sight breaks his heart.

"Y/N," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stir, blinking groggily as your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, the hurt in your gaze twisting the knife of guilt in his chest.

"What're you doing out here?" he asks, kneeling beside the couch.

You shift slightly, your voice quiet and trembling when you finally speak. "I figured you wouldn't want me in the room."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut.

There is nothing on Earth that could make him not want you around, not even a silly argument. Nothing that could convince him to keep you at arms length for more than a few minutes.

His breath catches, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm. You don't flinch, but you don't lean into his touch like you usually would, either. The hesitation in your posture is enough to make his broken heart ache.

"Y/N," he murmurs, his voice thick with regret. "That's not true. I didn't mean what I said. I was angry, and I wasn't thinking. I... I never should have said that, I promise you're not impossible to deal with."

You don't respond, your gaze dropping to the blanket. He lets out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into his palms as he tries to find the right words. His hands somehow find your face, thumbs wiping away the dampness still there.

"I'm sorry," he continues. "I was wrong. I hurt you, and I hate that I did. You're not impossible. You're—God, you're everything to me..."

For a long moment, you don't say anything.

Finally, you sigh, your voice barely audible. "It d-didn't feel like that earlier."

Spencer's shoulders slump, his head bowing as shame washes over him. "I know," he whispers. "I was awful to you. I don't have an excuse, but I... I can't stand the thought of you feeling like I don't want you around. Because I do. Always."

You look at him then, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's hard to believe that when you say things like that, Spence."

"I know," he says again, his voice breaking. "But I'll spend every moment for the rest of my life making it up to you, if I have to. If you want me to."

Your lips press together, and for a moment, he thinks you're going to push him away. But then you shift, sitting up slowly and letting the blanket fall away from your body. You lean into him slightly, nose pressing against the top of his head.

"Come here," he says softly, holding his hand toward yours.

You hesitate, but eventually, you take it. He pulls you into his arms, wrapping you in his embrace as if he's afraid to let you go. The warmth of his body seeps into yours, chasing away the lingering chill.

"I'm sorry," he whispers again, his lips brushing against your hair. "I'll do better, I promise."

You rest your head against his shoulder, the tension in your body slowly melting away. "Please... just don't make me feel like that again."

"I won't," he vows, holding you tighter.

He'll never let you feel like this again—like you're less than enough. Like you're not everything and more to him. Like he doesn't want you around. Like he doesn't love you. Never.

And as he carries you back to the bedroom, his arms never leaving your frame, you let yourself believe him.

[7seas-of-ryy]

Crestfallen - Part 3

Author’s Note: I made up a lot of sicknesses/random things that have never been mentioned throughout the actual ACOTAR series! The breaks in text are going back and forth between the two rooms.

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 3 Summary: Clara has been found out, but what has she done to you?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." Clara said softly, a small confused smile on her lips.

"When I asked you to help her, you said "I didn't do this one." What does that mean." Nesta snarled at the young healer.

Mor seemed deep in thought, Azriel and Cassian were equally confused, and Nesta seemed ready to pounce.

"Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing her say that." Mor spoke up.

"You better tell us what's up right now." Cassian growled.

At this point, Clara's smile faultered. She looked around for a way out but noticed the four of them had her surrounded and they wouldn't stop until they knew the truth. She may be evil but she wasn't dumb.

"It wasn't even that bad." The healer confessed.

"What have you done?" Azriel questioned, his voice deadly calm.

------

Madja had seen cases like yours before but never this bad. The cut on your back had traces of venom in it. A rare venom that used the victim's power against them.

She needed to extract every last ounce of it that was in your system but it was trickier than it sounded. If she took too much too fast, it could essentially tear your powers from your very being which would kill you.

"I need you to enter her mind. Once you are in, I will start to remove the poison from her system, you just need to let me know if her mind starts fading." Madja explained to Rhys.

"Are you sure this will work?" Rhys asked.

"Of course I am, boy. Now do as I say." She said quickly.

Rhys tried to enter your mind but all he could see was blinding light. There was no where for him to enter, it was almost as if the light was burning him. He pulled away, never feeling anything like it before.

"I can't get in, her light, it burns me." He explained to the healer.

"Listen to me. It might burn a bit but you will be fine. On the other hand, if we don't fix her right now her light will continue to burn brighter until it has consumed her. Perhaps we could get the shadowsinger in here to help." Madja told Rhys, hoping Azriel's shadows could help.

Rhys immediately spoke to Az through his mind and he appeared within seconds.

"What can I help with?" He rushed out his question.

"I cannot enter her mind, it is too bright, painfully so. Could you somehow use your shadows to help me get through?" Rhys explained the situation.

"I can try." Az responded.

------

Cassian looked towards where Azriel just stood, knowing he went to help you.

"I have no clue what's wrong with Y/N, honest. I swear I didn't think it would go this far." Clara pleaded with the group.

"You better start explaining before I unleash Nesta upon you." Cassian threatened.

Nesta had been eerily still, like a predator hunting her prey. Clara was visibly scared. Her hands were shaking, terrified of what Nesta would do to her.

"Ok listen. I've had a huge crush on Azriel for years now, so when I saw you guys needed another healer I took that as my opportunity." The "healer" explained.

"We've only known you for 2 weeks, how could you have a crush on him for years?" Mor asked.

"Everyone knows Azriel, the mighty shadowsinger, the feared spymaster of the Night Court. Well...when I met him all he wanted to talk about was Y/N. About how much I'd love her personality, how she's so great," Clara went on, "so I was a little jealous of her."

By this point, Mor was dissappointed she didn't believe you. She assumed you were exhausted from your mission and the guilt she felt was awful.

"When she showed up to my shop I got angry that she was back so soon. Rhys wanted me to do a check up on her and all I saw was a tiny cut on her back so I thought she'd be fine and I just wanted her to leave." She continued to explain.

Nesta was fuming by this point. Not only because of what she did to her friend but also because she didn't see through Clara sooner.

"Wait wait wait, all this is happening to Y/N because you're jealous of her? What kind of vile creature are you?" Cassian seathed.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen-" She began to plead when Azriel appeared in the room again.

------

Rhys re-entered your mind, this time with Azriel's shadows being a protective barrier around him. It was way easier this time but he wasn't sure how long Az could hold it.

"Alright, start." Rhys told Madja.

The healer began her work. Unweaving the venom from your powers, from your soul. She was about halfway through when Rhys called out.

"STOP! I can feel her fading!" Rhys was panting, he was exerting all his energy.

Madja pulled out, confusion taking over.

"This doesn't make sense. It's as if another energy is pulling her powers. Like an untouched ball of energy using up the rest of her." She explained.

"What do we do?" Azriel questioned.

"It needs another energy form to pull from..." She started.

"My shadows." He whispered.

Before anyone could stop him he sent them out to you and that little ball inside of you immediately began to absorb them. He screamed out in pain and Rhys and Madja quickly began to work.

It took only a few moments more for Madja to finish yet it felt like an eternity for the two males. It had been way easier now that Az was distracting whatever it was inside of you. The venom was successfully extracted and the room was eerily quiet. Rhys and Az both fell back, feeling drained from using their powers in such a way.

"Why isn't she waking up?" The shadowsinger whispered, making his way toward you.

"It must have to do with whatever is deep inside her. I need to do a full body work up on her to see what is going on." She spoke and started right away.

Az felt a tear slide down his cheek and quickly brushed it away. The High Lord stayed back to give you space to be checked out but he felt the same as the male next to him, worried and hopeless.

It felt like an eternity when Madja spoke up again.

"There is a substance inside her nose. Almost like a powder but I haven't seen it before. I'll have to take it back with me to break the molecules down. I'm afraid Y/N will have to stay in this state for now." She told the two males.

Azriel's head shot toward Madja at her words.

"Wait, did you say a powder was in her nose?" He muttered.

She just nodded her head in response, holding up the sample she collected. Your words from earlier popped into his head.

"Y/N told me 'she blew some powder in my face which caused everything'." Azriel stated coldly and winnowed away.

------

The shadowsinger appeared in front of Clara, his shadows surrounding her and pinning her against the wall. She shrieked in either pain or fear but he didn't care. You were in danger and he would stop at nothing to help you.

"What did you blow in Y/N's face?" He demanded.

"What?!" She feigned innocence.

Azriel held up the vial of powder close to her face. His shadows squeezed tighter around her frame.

"It's nothing serious," She weezed out, "It's a mix of vamire, spitfire aconite, and root of igranium. All it's supposed to do is heighten the pain/sickness they already have. I had an antidote that I gave her. It's in my bag."

Mor quickly grabbed the bag from the female, searching for both the powder and the antidote. She handed them both to Az.

"And why would you posion her just to give her an antidote?" Cass asked.

"I wanted to impress Azriel." She whimpered looking down.

"What's in the antidote?" Az shouted at her making her flinch.

"A..Adlirin and G..G..Green Gilliflower." She sputtered in terror.

The shadows left along with their master and she fell to the floor.

------

"Both of these are in her system," Az spoke holding the vials, "Vamire, Spitfire Aconite, Root of Igranium, Aldirin, and Green Gilliflower."

Madja's eyes grew wide and a bad feeling shot through both Az and Rhys at her reaction.

"This isn't good." She said, looking over your unconscious form.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @theravenphoenix26

@anoneyesee @ren-ni @kabekusa @isa1b2h3 @i-am-infinite

@historygeekqueen @mariahoedt @fr0stf4ll

[chalkscene]

tears of themis ⇢ YOU DECIDE TO SLEEP ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT

ft. luke pearce, artem wing, marius von hagen & vyn richter

you’re shifting restlessly on the couch when you catch your LUKE alarm keychain—handmade by luke himself—peeking from behind the armrest, “luke says he’s sorry.” you can’t help but smile at the sound of luke faking a small voice and whatever rage that filled you from your argument hours ago has now dissipated, endeared by the sweet gesture. “you’re gonna set off that alarm by accident,” you quip, the lightness in your tone encouraging luke to come into view. “you’re not mad anymore?” he asks, cautious yet hopeful. all his years of training and building a hard exterior to be a detective have nothing on you because in the warmth behind his hazel eyes that only you can bring out, you still find the boy you grew up with. the boy you’ve always loved. “i can’t stay mad at you,” you admit, on the brink of tears, “luke, i’m really sorry…” luke is quick to bring you in his arms, declining your apology because that’s what he does—he’ll blame everything before he’ll blame you. you’re unable to hold back a sob, prompting him to hold you tighter before he whispers in your ear, “let’s not do this again, okay?”

ARTEM is going over a recent case when he realizes it’s almost midnight. he’s usually one to pull an all-nighter but gnawing at the back of his mind is the argument he had with you today—you two haven’t spoken to each other since. after having decided to put off his work until tomorrow, he walks out of his home office to join you in bed but he finds you in the living room instead, your pillows and blanket already set up on the sofa. he can tell you’re aware of his presence from the way you’re deliberately not looking in his direction. still, he attempts to catch your attention with a soft call of your name. when you don’t reply, he carefully crosses the distance between the two of you. “we can’t fix this if you won’t talk to me,” he pleads. artem’s convinced his words have fallen on deaf ears until you finally speak, “i just don’t want to say the wrong thing again.” artem understands, thinking back to what started as a simple disagreement escalating into something it shouldn’t have and before you could stop it, you were both raising your voices at each other, saying things you didn’t mean. “i’m sorry about everything i said,” your voice sounds weak as it quivers and artem immediately wraps you in his embrace. “me too,” he tells you, “we can talk tomorrow. just come to bed.” when you nod into his chest, he presses a reassuring kiss at top of your head as he promises, “we’re alright.”

as MARIUS waits for you in bed, anxiety slowly eats away at him, the argument he had with you hours ago replaying in his mind. you should’ve walked in by now, he thinks, so he waits a few more minutes before getting on his feet and makes his way downstairs. he’s rehearsing his apology, muttering to himself to test the words on his tongue but it all flies out the window when he finds you asleep on the sofa. ridden with guilt, he decides to save his sorry’s for tomorrow when you’re both lucid for a proper conversation. marius is careful not to wake you up—gently slipping an arm beneath your head and looping the other under your knees to carry you to the bedroom. he’s tucking you in bed when you begin to stir awake. “sorry,” you hear him whisper, “didn’t mean to wake you up.” “what time is it?” you ask groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “it’s late. go back to sleep.” he places a tender kiss on your forehead to lull you to your slumber before he shifts you on your side, his chest against your back as he slides an arm across your torso. “sweet dreams,” he mutters and you feel his breath on the nape of your neck. “marius?” “hm?” “i’m sorry about earlier…” “that’s my line, miss,” he quips, albeit sincerely. he gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls you flush against him. “i’m sorry, too,” he replies, “i never want you to go to sleep upset.”

you’re getting settled on the couch when you hear VYN clear his throat as he carefully places a fresh cup of tea on the table in front of you. “chamomile tea,” he states, “it will help you sleep better.” there’s the slightest caution in his voice but it’s enough to tell you what the tea is for—peace offering after your heated disagreement earlier. “thank you,” you mumble, gradually feeling the guilt bubbling in your chest, “you’re using reverse psychology on me, aren’t you?” there’s no bite in your tone but vyn’s eyes still widen at the accusation. “n-no,” he stutters and a giggle involuntarily escapes you, to vyn’s surprise. “i’m joking.” when you notice his body language go lax, you slowly reach for his hand. “and i’m sorry for the things i said to you,” you tell him, “i didn’t mean it.” “i know.” a soft smile curls on his lips as he interlocks your fingers together, “so am i.” you stay quiet for a moment, basking in his touch that you missed terribly before he speaks again. “if you still wish to be alone tonight, i don’t mind staying here.” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, aware of the fact that this is just him assessing your boundaries—vyn does mind and you know that—so you shoot him a dubious look instead to which he responds with a sheepish smile. “i suppose you’ve changed your mind?” you actually give him an eye roll this time. “you know you had me at chamomile.”

[ktittycat]

regulus black x female reader | sleeping beauty

———————————————————————

* somnophilia, perv!reggie, masturbating, basically non-con, innocence kink, cuz reggie’s like a brother to you :( he calls u good girl, p in v, unsafe sex …. if there’s more tags tell me

———————————————————————

you were a deep sleeper. it would take more than 5 alarms to wake you up— and if someone were to slap you across the face… you might wake up, but would immediately go back to sleep. it’s 12 AM when your best friend, someone who you view as a brother, enters your dorm room. it’s just you in there, since all your dorm mates had gone out that night.

you don’t even notice, deep asleep and snoring quietly. he smiles lazily at your hello kitty shirt., and fuck, you aren’t even wearing shorts. you’re wearing these cute hello kitty underwear to match. his pants tighten at the sight.

he knows it’s wrong. you’re sleeping and completely unaware of what he’s about to do to you. and regulus knows you view him as a brother. but with your cute frame and those doe eyes— he’s bound to fall in love. he moves a piece of hair out of your face.

“you’re just so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles as he kisses your cheek, tugging up your shirt to reveal those perky boobs he’s been dying to see. “fuck.”

he fondles with them for a bit before pulling down his sweatpants, his hard cock popping out. it’s tip is throbbing with a bright red. he so desperately needs you. he holds your chin gently, positioning your face so he can see you. and he strokes. strokes to the sight of your boobs and your unconscious face.

“fuck,” he lets out a low groan. he squeezes his cock harder. you whimper in your sleep, and turn back around. he smirks and cups your breast, still jerking off to the sight of your body. he moans quietly until he reaches his high, shuddering as his cum spurts all over your chest. he chuckles quietly.

“such an innocent girl,” he whispers. he peppers small kisses down your body as he moves your panties to the side. “you’d be such a good girl for me.”

regulus grunts quietly when he sees your pussy. he’s immediately hard again. his tip teases the entrance of your cunt. he bites his lip. “you won’t mind if i stick it in just a little bit, hm?”

you’re still fast asleep. as he enters just the aching head of his cock inside of you, you unconsciously spread your legs wider. he lets out a small chuckle, rubbing your thighs. he grinds against you desperately, whimpering like a bitch in heat just from your virgin pussy.

oh my god, he thinks as he thrusts, pushing himself inside even more. i’m taking her virginity and she doesn’t even know.

“so fucking tight,” his breath hitches as he bottoms out, his large cock reaching deep inside you. “pretty little virgin.”

he pounds into you desperately, and you stay asleep during all of this. his moans become hoarse as his orgasm comes close. he knows he shouldn’t come inside you… but the way your pussy clenches around him and how warm your insides feel— he spills inside immediately. his head throws back as he comes, mouth wide open and he’s gotten completely reckless. he’s moaning loudly.

regulus pulls out. he takes out his phone and takes a picture of your disheveled state. it’s wrong, and he feels an immense amount of guilt, but oh, he’s gonna jerk off to that later. he spends the next few minutes using his fingers to scoop his cum out, and cleans your cum-covered boobs. just a few minutes later, and you’re back to normal. he kisses your lips softly before leaving your room.

he sees you in the morning, eating breakfast in the great hall. you smile and wave at him, regulus immediately walks over to you.

“hi reggie,” you smile as you eat your food. “how’d you sleep?”

“good…” he chuckles nervously. “and you?”

“i slept good but,” you frown. “i must’ve slept wrong because my legs are so sore.”

“oh. that’s weird. you want reggie to massage your legs for you?” he smiles, feigning innocence. you nod and make plans for him to come over to your dorm later so he can massage your thighs.

pt 2 pt 3

masterlist

[ivysprophecy]

please please please

word count; 1644

summary; turning off your phone and shutting out the world isnt the best way to handle your problems but its what you do. and jjs had enough of it.

warnings; i dont think there is any? mentions of anxiety attacks? tagging @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

masterlist

prev. | next

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

"well hey there stranger"

i turn from my book to look behind me, seeing the boy id been actively avoiding for the past two days. carrying his surf board.

i shouldve remembered he'd come here to surf. i just wouldn't have guessed this early in the morning.

"hey jayj."

"oh thats all i get? 'hey'? no 'i miss you so much'?" he sets his board in the sand taking a seat next to me on my blanket.

guess im not finishing my book today. "oh my god jj! youre here! ive been dyingggg to talk to you! i cant believe youre really in here in the flesh! there. better?"

"oh dont be like that- cmon mama whatd i do?" i feel bad with the genuine concern on his face.

okay was ghosting him out of nowhere awful of me? probably. i just didnt know what else to do.

after that night at the bonfire i realized that with my feelings for him growing it wasnt a good idea for us to continue our casual... something. it played with both our emotions. it isnt fair to either of us.

especially after his 'i love you'. that really did it in for me.

"you didnt do anything jj. trust. i just... ive been in a funk. needed some me time thats all."

"well... do you still need your 'me time'?" he looked so hopeful. how could i say yes? where jj maybank is concerned ill easily fold every time. "cause you havent answered my texts so i couldn't ask you to surf with me this morning."

"... i dont have my board. but i suppose i can hang out with you for a little while."

"im honored," he smiles laying back on his elbows, "but really. are you good? i like to think i know you pretty well and this whole MIA thing was not normal."

turning to face him more, i sigh, what the fuck am i supposed to say? 'yea im just so in love with you i cant be around you' yea that would go over really well.

"i dont know. just gotta lot of stuff goin on. you dont have to worry though. im good."

"well do ya wanna talk about it?"

"trust me jay you dont wanna hear about my problems. theyre trivial at best."

"what are friends for if not for listening?" he nudges me with his shoulder urging me to talk. i really dont think i can do this. i was not prepared.

"youre not a very good listener," i point out, to which he immediately takes faux offense. jaw dropped and everything.

"oh thats just not true! i can listen!"

i run a hand through my tangled hair in frustration. this cannot be how i tell him. it just cant. i came here to get away from thinking about this and now hes right here in front of me acting so unserious while im spiraling.

"jj i really appreciate how eager you are to help me but its really not necessary. i didnt really prepare myself and its just too much-"

"prepare yourself? mama what the fuck are you talking about? does this have to do with that night after the bonfire? i mean obviously it does who am i kidding you havent talked to me since then. did i do something wrong? was- was it bad?" he leans in closer, lowering his voice thats laced with worry and guilt.

oh my god that is the absolute last thing i expected him to say. shit i really fucked this up. and honestly just not true.

"what? no! no jj you didnt do anything wrong and it was perfect. promise," i try to reassure him but i know deep down hes gonna over think this whole thing if i dont tell him straight up

i may love him but i never said he was the brightest in the bunch.

"okay so whats the problem?"

"the problem is that it was perfect," i cant help but let out a sigh before hiding my face in my hands as the words leave my mouth.

god my heart is racing, im not ready for this conversation. maybe if i pass out i wont have to. yea if he has to call an ambulance then we can avoid this all together. but an ambulance is also like five grand so...

shit.

"... youre mad at me because you had a good time?" his face contorted in a weird fixture of confusion.

"no! no- god youre so dense sometimes!"

"mama i dont have a fucking clue what youre saying! how does that make me stupid??"

i hide my face in my hands again trying to compose myself because what the fuck kind of confession is this?

"jj im avoiding you because ive been developing feelings for you and i cannot in good conscience keep being so casual with you and sleeping with you knowing this and i know that you do not want anything serious so i figured id just make it easier for the both of us and just take myself out of the situation entirely so that nothing bad happens and i cannot stop fucking talking so please for the love of god say something or do something because i feel like my heart is about to beat out of my chest and-"

oh my god im getting my book moment. he just kissed me to make me stop talking!!! oh my god hes kissing me.

is this where i kiss him back?

of course i kiss him back!! what the fuck!!? and oh my lord does it feel nice, so so so nice.

the way his tongue presses against mine, the way he cups my jaw and pulls me close to him. it was slow and confident and loving and everything he knows i like. his hands find my hips like muscle memory, pulling our bodies together, eventually having me on his lap. where he takes my hands and places them on his chest so i can feel his chest rise and fall with deep breaths.

“… mama you need to learn to breathe.”

“that’s not funny right now jj. im actively having an anxiety attack, horrible thing to say really."

"what're you so anxious about? i think we're havin' a pretty calm conversation, dont you?"

"i mean yea- but thats not-" he interrupts me while shaking his head with a shrug.

"listen, i get why youre a little nervous to say that, all things considered. but i thought it was pretty obvious i was into you, i just didnt wanna push you because you made your boundaries clear so i just took what i could get."

my eyes bug out of my head in shock. am i the dense one? i mean yea hes a really good kisser and i can feel he cares deeply about me when we do stuff and makes me feel safe and supported but that doesnt mean-

yea im stupid. he all but outright said it. actually he has. thats what started this panic.

"... okay yea- maybe. but you agreed they were a good idea so i figured that meant you wanted them there too. and i dont know- it just kind of got overwhelming and i didnt wanna be one of those girls who expects something huge after sex so... you know what i mean? and truthfully youre not what i expected for me."

"what does that mean?" his face showed a little offense.

"i just mean- ya know. for one i didnt expect to love my best friend. and then on top of that i didnt think id love a guy who was a treasure hunting, or- adrenaline junkie i should say."

he leans back putting some space between us, "is that supposed to be a bad thing?

"no! no jay im not saying this right- i-... youre a fighter and youre adventurous- a lot of things im not. if that makes sense. all im sayin is a few years ago i wouldnt have expected to be here. but i like it here. love it here even," i smile at him teasingly trying to ease his worries. the last thing i need is to say the wrong thing right now.

"so what youre saying is that you love me?"

"youre such an idiot."

'but do ya? because i think you do mama."

i roll my eyes chuckling, "yea. yea i do maybank," i press a small kiss to his cheek leaning back into him.

"does this mean youll let me make you a maybank mama?" his eyebrow was quirked up as he teases his question.

"lets not get ahead of ourselves. how about we take this slow?"

he looks down at my button up shirt i was wearing over my bikini to shield me from the ocean breeze, and i could tell he was debating taking it off of me. giving me that same look he always does.

"slow? mama i dont think we're gonna be too good at that."

"all 'm sayin is we dont have to jump the gun, we both admitted it, doesnt mean we gotta change the way we act or announce it or nothing. we can just enjoy this ourselves ya know?"

"you embarrassed of me mama?"

"not at all baby, just want you all to myself. is that too much to ask for?"

he shakes his head leaning up against me, our faces inches apart, "nah i dont think so. i like the sound of that."

i meet him the rest of the way pressing his lips to mine, smiling into it. pulling him as close as humanly possible. i need him under mind skin, in my blood, you know?

"i do too, so we agree? we'll keep this between us for now?"

"whatever you want mama. yes maam."

[c0s-lettuce]

common factor - dave lizewski x reader

gender not explicitly mentioned but dave calls reader "ladybug"

synopsis: after getting stood up, you seek out the one person who makes everything better.

word count: 1517

a/n: recently watched kick-ass and omg atj is so cute. inspired by the scene in kick-ass 2 when mindy goes to dave after getting date ditched.

Tonight was slowly becoming a disaster. It had already been a mediocre week at school. So, when a nice boy with blue eyes asked you out, you were eager to say yes.

And so, you stood alone in front of the movies on a chilly Thursday evening as you waited for your date. You knew you had the right time and place. You had checked Ben's message multiple times. But still, you waited for five minutes. Then ten. Then twenty.

You called it quits after thirty-four minutes.

As you begin your walk of shame, you don't yearn for your home or bed. You don't think of anything that would usually provide you comfort. Right now, all you want is your best friend.

So, you make your way over to his place. It had been a while since you climbed up to his window, but you still remember the spots to step and hold on to. Mr Lizewski was rarely ever strict enough to require sneaking around. But it was too late to knock, so the window it was.

You land softly on the floor inside. Dave sleeps soundly in his bed, the light from the street gently illuminating his face. He looks so peaceful that you begin to feel bad for waking him. But your need for comfort overrides your guilt.

"Dave?" you call out, loud enough to wake him.

Dave awakens slowly, blinking in the dimness. His eyes find yours, and he jolts upright.

"Holy shit," he mutters, reaching over to turn on the lamp. "What are you doing here?"

You take a seat on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry for waking you. I just really needed to see you."

He sits up, immediately concerned. "Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen with Ben?"

You had told him about the date, of course. He was happy for you. Dave is always happy for you.

"He stood me up," you tell him.

Dave's eyes soften, and he pulls you in for a hug. You melt in his embrace, unable to stop the stray tears that fall from your eyes.

"Oh, bug. I'm so sorry. He's such an ass," Dave says softly, rubbing your back.

"I think there's something wrong with me," you say as you pull away.

He furrows his brow. "What? That is not true. How could you say that?"

You shake your head. "No, you don't understand. I'm-"

I'm in love with you, is you want to say.

You want to tell him you only agreed to go out with Ben because his eyes reminded you of Dave's. That's the only reason you paid attention to anyone lately. Alex with the hair, James with the smile and Ben with the eyes. If you broke them all down, Dave would be the common factor.

But the words refuse to come out. So, instead, you say, "I'm hopeless."

"You're not hopeless," Dave reassures.

"Then why does this keep happening?" you ask.

Dave's hands take yours. "It's not you. It's them, okay? They're all jerks. And you know what? I'm glad Ben didn't show. Because you're too good for him, ladybug."

You frown, unsure how to respond to that. You look down at your hands, at how they fit in his.

Dave takes this opportunity to continue, "I mean it. You're so sweet and kind and funny. He doesn't deserve a second of your time, much less your tears."

"I know, you're right," you say. "I guess I just... wanted to be liked."

Dave nods in understanding, "You are, though. You're loved. You don't need Ben to prove that."

His words manage to make you smile a little bit. You nod in response, knowing he's right again.

"Why don't you stay over for the night?" Dave suggests. "I can get you some clothes to sleep in."

"Yeah," you reply. "Yeah, that sounds great."

Dave smiles. "Perfect. You stay right here."

Dave gives you a spare shirt and a pair of pyjama shorts you forgot once during a sleepover. After a quick shower, you get changed and take a moment to compose yourself, not wanting to shed any more tears.

Meanwhile, Dave waits for you in bed. He felt as if his heart could break. You looked so beautiful tonight. You should be out being admired and doted on. But instead, you were left in tears. Dave starts considering putting on his Kick-Ass suit and teaching Ben a lesson.

However, his plans don't go much further before you return from the bathroom. You tiptoe over to the bed, and Dave lifts the covers up for you. You slip in beside him, instantly comforted by the soft sheets and the subtle scent that lingers on them.

You and Dave lie facing each other, the setting familiar and cozy. He reaches forward to play with your hair, brushing his fingers from the top of your head to behind your ear. The repetitive motion soothes you.

"I don't want to see Ben tomorrow," you tell him.

He nods. "I'll stick with you as much as I can. I won't let him bother you."

"I don't know how people do it," you say. "All this dating and relationships, especially in high school."

"I couldn't tell you," he answers. "My one and only girlfriend publicly broke up with me and told me she cheated on me at the same time."

You cringe at the reminder. You remember when Dave started dating Katie. He had such a big crush on her, and you tried your best to be supportive. You tried not to hate her. You were glad when she did something worthy of your resentment.

"God, that was horrible," you say.

"Yeah. Maybe we're both cursed with bad luck," Dave replies.

You frown. "I thought ladybugs are supposed to be lucky."

Dave chuckles at your statement, taking a moment to think. "You're right. Maybe the universe is doing us a favour by showing us we don't need them. You know you'll always matter more to me than some random girl."

"That won't always be true," you say quietly.

"Sure it will, bug," he replies. "It's me and you forever, remember?"

His words make you want to shrivel up under the covers. They take you back to the old days when you and Dave had not a single care in the world.

"Yeah, I remember," you mumble.

Dave smiles. "Good. Don't you forget it."

You take a deep breath, shutting your eyes for a moment. You never expected this night to be so emotionally taxing. A few moments of comfortable silence pass as you try to ground yourself.

"Hey," Dave speaks up after a while. "How about I take you out this weekend?"

You open your eyes again, slightly surprised. How about I take you out?* *You wonder if he phrased it like that on purpose.

"You don't have to," you tell him.

"I want to," he says. "It's been a while since we did something without Todd or Marty. Maybe we can see the new Avengers movie. I know you have a crush on Thor."

You glare at him, feigning offence. "I do not have a crush on Thor."

He grins. "Aw, come on. You can tell me the truth. Though, I'll have to try very hard not to be jealous."

You whack him on the arm, and he laughs.

"Okay, kidding," he says, "But seriously, we can do that. Or watch something else. Or do anything, really."

The ideal appeals to you more than you care to admit. You nod, "I'd like that a lot."

He smiles. "Great. It'll be my treat. We'll have the best time, I promise."

You smile back. "Thanks, Dave."

"Don't mention it," he replies. "Now, go to sleep. Let that pretty head of yours rest."

You do as he says, closing your eyes again. You scoot closer to him, and he wraps an arm around your waist. He kisses you gently on the top of your head, and you can't help but smile.

"Goodnight, Davey," you murmur.

"Goodnight, ladybug," he responds.

An unpleasant beeping wakes you in the morning. It takes a moment for your sleep-addled brain to make sense of everything. You notice you're warm, incredibly warm. You realise it's because Dave's chest is against your back, his arms secure around your body.

You feel as if you could be a puddle right now. It's all so perfect, except for that beeping. It's Dave's alarm. Of course. You forgot it was still a school day.

Dave shifts behind you, and his warmth leaves you as he rolls away. You miss it immediately but aren't awake enough to do anything about it. There's the sound of fumbling before the beeping finally stops. Not a moment sooner, Dave returns, wrapping his arms around you again and holding you tighter than before.

He nuzzles his face against your neck, letting out a deep breath that tickles your skin. It's almost enchanting how quickly sleep calls for you again. Dave doesn't say a word, but it's clear you both agree that school can wait five more minutes.

➸

[thisisbeefjerky]

FUCK MAN. This is spoilers for x files fight the future if you don’t wanna see that, but I’m right in the middle of it and I’m freaking out and I need to rant about this

Ok so don’t get me wrong, I knew about the almost kiss in Fight the Future. Hell I’ve seen the clip of the outtake, the actual kiss (give it up for the 2 hottest people on the planet deciding to gift us with that take), but Nobody prepared me for what happens in the actual scene

First of all the dialogue before it, where he’s chasing her down begging her not to leave because he can’t do this without her, and it’s desperate but it’s not dramatic, it’s just true. He can’t he doesn’t want to do this without her because they complete each other. Every time she’s gone he’s just untethered, and he admits this to her but he can’t tell her why, he can’t bring himself to tell her that he loves her

AND THEN It’s only when she initiates an intimate act of the hug that he feels safe enough to take the next step, because he’s terrified, I just know his heart is pounding leading up to that move, he is just lost in her and you can Tell, and it Hurts to watch because you can tell they’re feeling so strongly

And Scully just seems like she’s completely awash in emotion, I can’t credit enough dd and ga’s performances in this because Gosh the complexity of emotion in her face, there’s the doubt, there’s the grief at potentially losing him, and the guilt of it possibly being by her own hand, there’s the fear of staying behind and holding him back, there’s the fear of being too close and not being good for him.

I mean she has the Gall to suggest that she’s never done anything to help Mulder since they met, she seems to really believe it too or she wouldn’t have made the choice to resign in the first place, and it seems like the reason she starts crying at all is the idea, made explicit and impossible to dismiss, that he wants her and needs her, and when she has that confirmed she just melts into him, and like. ow.

But what kills me the most about this scene that’s different from the outtake clip is his reaction to her jerking away. Because she gasps in pain and surprise and swerves her face away from him, and he has no idea why, and all he can think is Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’ve ruined everything.

I mean you can see it, his face just falls, his eyes close, his head tilts back and he’s visibly berating himself internally, he just whispers “I’m sorry.” With a voice more filled with sorrow than you’ve ever heard out of a man who’s almost been kissed and is holding the love of his life in his arms. He’s so scared to have ruined everything they’ve built.

And you can tell with that whispered apology that he’s thought about this. It’s not the first time by a long shot that he’s considered kissing her. In his mind he’s made a mistake, a slip up. He finally lets himself go enough to try, and she seems to reject him at the last moment, and all he can think is that it must be his fault. She must not want him that way. He apologizes before he even knows what’s going on because he’s ready to respect her wishes at the drop of a hat.

Then Scully turns to him, wanting to explain right away “it’s not you, I got hurt” and he responds perfectly adequately. With compassion, comforting her immediately with his words and his hands. But while he does this his mind is visibly completely detached. He’s gone from anticipatory terror to crushing fear and disappointment to relief and nervousness in the space of about four seconds, and he’s just standing there still trying to process what just happened, holding on to her physically for a source of stability.

And he doesn’t even get the chance to regain his footing, because before he knows it she’s losing consciousness and telling him in exact medical terms exactly what’s wrong because she’s a queen and a badass and a genius and I’m so sorry this is happening to you girl

And then of course she almost dies and he gets shot in the face so….. yeah

Basically! All this to say I’m completely normal about them and about this and nothing at all of note happens in these scenes

[darlingdaisyfarm]

what once was | Stanford Pines x reader

tags: sfw, memory loss, established relationship

a/n: this one was hard to write, not gonna lie. i even cried. thank u anon for this wonderful idea! Ford has always been such a complex character to write, but I tried to show his love, pain and his determination.

thank you for reading, i hope this breaks you as much as it broke me to write :,,,,,)

Stanley version

you wake up to the familiar weight of his hand resting gently on your arm, it’s warm and it brings a sense of. . . some kind of safety. as if you’ve felt it before, but. . . at the same time no. no, you don’t know why it’s so comforting.

you blink, trying to focus, but your head hurts like you’ve been hit by a truck. you rub your temples, wondering why it feels like your brain’s been shredded into pieces that won’t stick together.

your vision is blurry at first, but your gaze shifts to the man beside you. dark circles under his worried eyes that still got some hope in them.

Ford hasn’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in weeks.

“hey. hey, sweetheart. you’re okay.”

you analyse his face, feeling a slight sense of panic inside. “wait, who— who are you?”

Ford’s face drops, not in shock, but in something far more painful. you’ve asked him this question before. you’ve asked it every single morning since the accident. and every morning, the answer is the same.

“it’s. . . it’s me, darling. Ford. your husband.”

your husband, he names himself. . . you wish you could make sense of the emotions in your chest right now, but you can’t, because you don’t understand, you can’t remember, nothing’s connecting. nothing makes sense and everything feels so wrong.

Ford cant stand the silence. “y-you don’t remember, do you?” please just tell him you do—

“no. . .”

his lips press together and he looks down, but he’s not mad, not angry. no, Ford’s never angry, not at you.

“i— i’m sorry,” you mumble with guilt in ur voice. “i really don’t remember, i’m sorry.”

Ford shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, trying to control the storm of emotions inside of him. he’s trying so damn hard to stay calm and not burst into tears right in front of you. “don’t— don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. none of this is your fault.”

you continue to look around, trying to find at least one thing in the room which could be familiar to you.

“w-we’ve been through this a thousand times, love,” Ford explains and looks away, focusing on the empty space in front of him. "i know this isn’t easy for you. for us. but i’m not going anywhere, we’ll figure this out. i’ll— i’ll fix it. i’ll find a way to bring your memories back. i promise."

“how long?” you ask. “how long have we been. . . married?” it’s so weird to even pronounce the last word.

“seven years, my love.”

***

Ford holds it together for you. he always does.

every morning, he wakes up before you. sits at the edge of the bed, rubs the sleep from his eyes and prepares to tell you who he is.

who you are.

he’s a scientist, logic is his shield and his weapon. he throws himself into his work, searching for something that could help.

he’s got sketches pinned to the walls, equations scattered across the desk. an entire board dedicated to explore how human’s psyche and mind works.

he's been up countless nights, fiddling with wires and strange gadgets, all while researching any possible way to bring you back to him. every book, every article, every experiment. even though he’s exhausted, theres still light in his eyes that never fades, a fire in him too. a stubborn determination to make things right, no matter what.

you catch him once, sitting at that desk with head in his hands, probably tired as fuck.

“hey. . .” you forgot his name again, damn.

Ford’s head snaps up immediately when he hears you because he hopes you came to tell him “honey, i remembered! i remembered we are married!”. you see the redness in his eyes, from tears or lack of sleep, youre not sure. he scrubs a hand across his face, trying to pull himself together.

Ford looks at you, waiting you to continue, waiting to hear these cherished magical words. but you stand here all silent and confused.

“you should be asleep, honey,” he finally tells you, realising you won’t continue.

“so should you,” you say softly, stepping closer.

when you reach out to touch his arm, he shudders.

“i can’t, i can’t lose you. not like this. i need to work.”

***

but there’s always another plan. the one he doesn’t tell you about.

Bill.

and Ford is not proud of it.

he knows it’s a dangerous path, one that’s led him to dark places he never wanted to go. but the temptation is too strong. the idea of reaching out, of making that deal to bring your memories back. . . if only for a moment, if only for a chance to see you smile at him like you once did. Ford has considered it, weighed the consequences, overthought it.

but each time, he’s pulled himself back. he can’t go down that road again. he won’t.

still, this idea stays in his mind. because every hour of research, every failed experiment, every sleepless night feeds that urge, a feeling that maybe the price will be worth it. just shake his hand and—

but he’s trying so hard to fight it because he can’t bring himself to make that choice, no matter how broken he feels inside. he won’t drag himself into that nightmare again, no matter how much his soul hurts, no matter how badly he wants to see you smile at him.

right now, he just wants to hold you, to keep you close. to be the one you turn to. he doesn’t need a deal with Bill. he needs you. he needs you to remember him the way he remembers you.

***

another morning.

you’re lying there, your head pressed softly against the pillow, still struggling to make sense of everything, who you are, who he is, what this is, you feel a mix of confusion and fear.

his hand is resting gently on yours, as always, his fingers caressing your skin with a tenderness that feels. . . familiar again, but so far away. he’s looking at you, waiting. just waiting. sitting beside you, thinking, trying to come up with more ideas.

you flip through a page of his journal and one of his drawings seems funny to you, you smile as you point at it, asking, “hey, Ford, so what is that thing?”

Ford.

he looks at you in shock. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak as if the wrong word might shatter this fragile moment he’s been waiting so long to happen.

his heart pounds in his chest.

“Ford. . .?” you ask again, worried why he got so silent. unsure if you should’ve said anything at all.

again, you say it, his fucking name, and it shatters him. because it’s not just the name. it’s that you remembered it. that piece of him, the one he’s been clinging to with everything he’s got, has finally stuck in your mind.

his eyes shimmer for the first time in all these months. his gaze falls to your lips, memorising the shape of the sound you just made.

“did— did you— did you just say my name?”

you nod slowly, unsure if you’ve done something wrong.

but you did exactly what he’s been waiting for, praying for.

his hands grip at his face, trying to control the flood of tears that he can’t hold back any longer

“you— say it again. please. say it again.”

you’re confused at the urgency in his voice, but still do as he asks you. “Ford. your name is Ford.”

his name. his name. from your lips, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Ford’s hand comes up, trembling, to cup your cheek. he touches you like you’re something so delicate and the sight of him hurts. hurts because you don’t remember what it feels like to be in his arms, what it felt like when he used to kiss your forehead goodnight, when he used to make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe.

“oh god, my love—” he cant continue because he simply starts crying. Ford presses a hand over his mouth, as if he could stop it, but he can’t. he can’t. “you— you remembered. oh, darling, you—” he just shakes his head, unable to speak as he gasps for air between sobs.

you stare at him, all lost. “Ford, are you— are you okay?” no, he’s not, he’s damn not, because he spent every waking moment trying to fix what’s been broken, for you.

Ford smiles through his tears, not even bothering to wipe them away. “no— yes. i-i’m fine, i just—” another sob cuts him off and he laughs bitterly through it. “god, you don’t. . . you don’t know what this means. you don’t—”

it’s not the anger, not the frustration that has been building up for weeks. it’s relief. it’s all the grief he’s been carrying.

Ford leans forward, reaching out for your hands, but he hesitates, because he’s scared you might pull away. because too much emotions which Ford used to hide. but you don’t and he grips them tightly, clutching them, wide smile never leaving his face.

“it’s you,” he whispers. “it’s you. you’re still in there. i knew it. i knew it.”

his forehead drops to your knuckles, his glasses slipping, tears falling down. “i was so scared, my love,” he admits through sobs. “so scared i’d lost you forever. that i’d never hear you say my name again. that—”

he can’t finish the thought, can’t even say it aloud. it’s too much, too cruel.

“Ford, i—“

he looks up at you and his cheeks are streaked with tears, eyes red, swollen and wide with disbelief and love. so much love it hurts.

“you d-don’t have to remember everything,” he whispers, his voice trembling but so, so tender and soft. “you don’t. i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes. but this. . . this is enough for me. hearing you say my name, it’s enough, darling.”

you don’t know why, but his words make you want to cry, too.

you can’t find the words to comfort him. how do you comfort him when he’s the one who’s been holding it all together, for you, all this time?

“it’s okay. it’s okay, Ford.”

the words feel too small, but they’re all you can offer, as your hand brushes against his cheek.

and Ford, your lovely Ford, your husband, he melts into your touch, like an affectionate puppy. he doesn’t try to hide it. he doesn’t try to be strong.

“i’ve been trying so hard. . .” Ford remembers every sleepless night, every failure, every moment when he thought he might lose you forever.

he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, holding you. you hold him back, just as tight.

“thank you,” Ford whispers into your skin. “thank you for remembering me, darling, for remembering us.”

you don’t know how much you’ve given him, not yet. but you will understand it later, much later. when you’ll remember him again, completely, soon.

but for now, you just hug him back, feeling how his body shakes, how he clings to you and you promise him you’ll remember.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, “i’ve always loved you, sweetheart. i just— just needed you to remember that.”

he’s not asking you to remember everything, to recall every detail, every moment. no. he just needs to know that you still remember him.

and you do.

you do.

[emmylksblog]

SOOTHING EMBRACE // H.FORT

request: can u write hector comforting sick reader?? (if u want)

genre: comfort, fluff

warnings: none

words: 1456

a/n: i hope having your period counts as sick because it does to me, cramps hurt like a bitch 👹

Hector stepped into the house, his heart beating from the excitement of the game. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with adrenaline.

He had scored the winning goal, and that alone made his day. But his thoughts quickly turned to you. He couldn't wait to see your reaction to the news, to hear your words of excitement, and see your face light up.

"I'm home baby!" He called out, dropping his duffle bag on the floor and looking around for you. He could practically hear your response in his head already - the way you'd jump up from the couch, rush over to him with a huge smile on your face. He couldn't help but smile himself at the thought.

He frowned at the lack of response, noticing the silent atmosphere of the house. Hector's excitement started to dim slightly, replaced by worry. He called out your name, walking into the living room, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor.

When he saw you curled up on the couch, he immediately knew something was wrong.

He knelt beside the couch, his hand gently touching your shoulder, "Hey cariño, what's going on? Are you okay?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. Hector's eyes scanned your face, taking in every tiny detail. He could tell that you were in pain, and he wanted nothing more than to soothe it away.

Your expression contorted into a grimace, and you let out a soft whimper. Hector felt a pang in his chest at the sound. He knew exactly what was going on. He had seen you like this before, and it broke his heart every time. He reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your forehead.

Hector couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He had checked the app on his phone earlier that day, knowing that your period was due soon. He had been planning to go out and buy some of your favourite snacks and maybe some painkillers to help ease your discomfort.

But it seemed like he had underestimated the power of your monthly cycle. He let out a small sigh, silently cursing himself for not being more prepared.

You could sense the change in his mood. You knew that Hector must have felt so excited after the game, but your current condition prevented you from matching his enthusiasm. However, even in your state, you still wanted to show him some support.

You mustered the strength to sit up a little and open your arms towards Hector, a faint smile on your lips. "Did you really think I'd miss your match? I watched you play, and I couldn't be prouder of you," you said, your voice laced with a mixture of affection and regret. "I'm sorry I can't celebrate with you right now."

You pulled him closer and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, the pain momentarily forgotten. "But if you're free tomorrow, maybe we can do something special to make up for it."

Hector's face softened as he listened to your words, his heart warming at your support and understanding. Even in your current condition, you still thought of him and wanted to celebrate his victory. Hector couldn't help but smile, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him.

He leaned into your touch, his hands finding your waist as he rested his forehead against yours. "Of course I'm free tomorrow," he said, his voice low and warm. "We'll do something special, I promise. You just focus on resting now."

He leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his fingers lightly tracing your hip in a soothing gesture. "You don't need to worry about anything, cariño. Just let me take care of you."

He pulled back slightly, a thought suddenly crossing his mind. "Wait here," he said, his eyes flickering with determination.

Hector then got up from the couch and moved towards the kitchen, leaving you sitting there feeling slightly confused and curious. You could hear him rummaging through the cabinets, the sound of bowls and spoons clinking together. After a few moments, he returned with a steaming mug in his hand and a small plate filled with chocolate chip cookies.

"I know these are your favourite," he said, his voice soft as he placed the items down on the coffee table in front of you. He then went back to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. "And these will help with the pain," he added, holding them out for you to take.

You couldn't help but feel a warm glow in your chest at his thoughtfulness. Even though his excitement about the game had been dampened by your pain, he was still looking out for you and taking care of you. You took the water and the painkillers with a grateful smile, feeling the love and care that Hector was showing you.

Your eyes began to well up with tears, a mix of emotions swelling within you. Part of you wanted to blame it on the usual mood swings that came with your period, but a bigger part of you knew that it was because of him. Hector was so sweet and thoughtful, always taking care of you, even in your most vulnerable moments.

You fought back the tears, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for him. "You're so good to me," you choked out, your voice cracking slightly.

Hector chuckled at your state, his eyes dancing with mischief. He was about to open his mouth to tease you, but before he could say anything, you swatted him lightly in the chest.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, a hint of amusement still in his voice. "You're just so adorable, baby."

You hid your face in his chest, feeling embarrassed by your current state. "It's embarrassing enough as it is, don't make it worse," you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Hector chuckled again, unable to resist leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this. Our secret," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer into him. "You know I love you, right?"

You felt his hands gently rubbing your back, offering you comfort and reassurance.

You looked up from your hiding place in his chest, your eyes meeting his. "I know," you mumbled, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I love you too, Hector."

You buried your face in his chest once again, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. His presence alone was enough to soothe your pain and make you feel loved and cared for.

The dull ache in your abdomen seemed to intensify suddenly, causing you to grimace and let out a low grunt of pain. Hector, being as attentive as ever, immediately noticed your discomfort.

"Does it hurt more baby?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Hector quickly devised a solution. He shifted you so that you were sitting between his legs, your back against his chest. He then placed his hands on your abdomen, applying gentle but firm pressure.

You could feel his fingers working their magic, massaging your stomach in small, circular motions. The pressure was just the right amount, enough to ease the pain and give you some relief.

As he continued to massage you, you leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You placed your own hands on top of his. You intertwine your fingers together, lightly caressing his knuckles as a sign of thanks.

You then turn your head, facing him to the side, and gently press a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "You always know how to make it better."

Hector smiles at your gesture of gratitude, his heart swelling with affection.

"Anything for you, baby," he replies, his voice low and gentle.

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you into a comfortable embrace. He plants a few light kisses on your neck, his lips moving against your skin in a soothing manner.

As he massages you, he can’t help but nuzzle his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and relishing the closeness.

Your free hand reaches out, gently touching his face. You run your fingertips over his features, tracing the lines of his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw.

He leans into your touch, his eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips. He turns his head slightly, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand in a soft kiss.

"Estoy aquí, para ti." (i'm here for you)