#cause i was sweating and i felt so sick

[faggottonystark]

mom i frew up😭

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.

[bitchdafuqyousay]

.

[submattenthusiast]

mess

summary - matt cumming on himself after being edged for so long

pairings - sub!matt x dom!reader

contents-smut, jerking off, mommy kink, one mention of pegging, cum, edging, crying, safeword mention (but not used) etc.

notes- based off this ask, not proofread, no plot.

“please, it hurts,” matt cried. it had been an hour of torturous edging, matt had an attitude earlier and you were sick of it, so you punished him the only way you knew how. 

hot tears streamed down matt’s face as he tried to gain your sympathy. his cheeks were red and his eyes were puffy, he had started crying around the second time his orgasm was denied. 

his cock was red and aching in your hands from the repeated blue balling. “poor poor thing” you cooed, tone laced with faux sympathy. he whined and pouted at your words, you didn’t care, you were enjoying this.

you continued your movements on his swollen cock, languidly moving your hand up and down his length. 

matt squirmed on the bed, thighs tensing everytime you gripped his cock. his mouth was in a permanent “O” shape, his voice gone from how many sounds he made.

“mommy m close– fuck please can i cum this time?” his voice cracked as he begged, he wasn’t sure how much more edging he could handle. “please please– i can’t” he sobbed, tears dropping down on his shirt.

you removed your hand swiftly, leaving him hanging once again. “no, no, please don’t stop” he complained, he was so ready this time. “i know i know, you can handle a couple more can’t you?” you urged him, wiping the tears stuck on his sticky cheeks. 

“yes please just want to cum for you mama ” he croaked out, leaning into your touch. matt regained his breath before speaking again, “can handle it just please let me cum soon please, hurts” he motioned to his cock as he finished speaking.

“good boy, gonna make a mess for mommy?” you murmured, hand gripping his base once again. “yes–ah yes i am” he winced, cock overly sensitive.

you loosened your grip on his base and moved your hand on his cock, rubbing up and down. precum dribbled down his cock, making it easier for your hand to move. he hissed at the feeling of your spit mixed with his precum.

you leaned down to kiss his tip before licking off all the precum that stuck to him. his breath hitched at the sensation of your hand and mouth. you placed your tongue back in your mouth,returning to your original position next to him. 

matt’s bottom half was fully nude, leaving him in a plain black tee. the material was becoming uncomfortable, sweat causing the shirt to stick to him awkwardly. “can i take this off please?” he begged, tugging at his shirt. “keep it on, you're gonna cum on your shirt” you demanded.

“s-so i can cum this time” he questions, eyes lighting up at the thought. you chuckled at his desperateness “nice try”. “how much longer then mama” he frowned, tears threatening to fall once again.

“you wanted this, remember?” you question, “yes ma’am i’m sorry” he mumbled, “so take it”. he groaned at your harsh tone, he loved when you got stern like this. you resumed your movements on his cock now that his previous build up had faded away. he jolted up as you placed both hands around his lengthy cock. matt held back an embarrassly high pitched whine,your hands felt too good.

you looked up at him and your brows furrowed, you saw he was holding out on you. you wanted to hear him, you didn’t care if he was close to cumming again, you were doing this to make him feel good. “don’t hold back sweetheart, i want to hear you” you comforted, knowing he was insecure about being vocal in bed.

matt unsealed his lips per your request, “o-oh okay”. his lips were beginning to feel numb from how hard he was biting down on them. “good boy” you complimented, he nodded and smiled shyly. 

“say it, say you’re a good boy” you sharply spoke, stopping your hand once again. he weeped at the loss of contact “ah– i’m a good boy, your good boy please”. your nipples hardened through your shirt at his obedience. 

“please touch me again mommy,” matt begged, missing your hands already. you nodded before wrapping your hands around him, his cock was covered in your saliva from the teasing earlier. he winced,he was beginning to feel overstimulated, he thought of using his safeword but he couldn’t use it before cumming,but he knew he couldn’t handle anymore edging.

your hand began to ache from the repeated actions to his cock and matt had been so good for you, you were finally giving in. he could finally cum this time. you continued to jerk him off, speeding up your pace, eager to push him over the edge.

“fuck– close close close” he moaned, hips starting to stutter. piercing moans and whimpers fell out his mouth. “mommy cum, n-need to ah–” he sniffled. you palmed his tip before going back down to his base. “go ahead baby” you voiced, lazily stroking him now. 

“thank you thank you” matt repeated. his body convulsed as he came, thighs clenched,as his

cock spilled out loads of cum onto your hand and covering his shirt. you squeezed him while finishing him off, making sure every last drop came out of him.

his breathing got heavy as he rode out his high. matts brown hair was a mess and he was sticky with sweat and cum. you still thought he looked so pretty fucked out. his blue eyes fluttered shut as he relaxed into the pillows under him.

you let his cock go as he was no longer hard, and overly sensitive,It fell limp against his thigh. “you alright matt?” you poked, he was oddly silent. “worn out” he uttered. you smiled before cuddling him next to him.

“if me jerking you off wears you out like this, how are you gonna last when i’m fucking you” you laughed, his eyes went wide, looking down at you to confirm he heard you right. “guess i’ll have to practice’’

a/n - rushed this bad but ty for reading.

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll @zariyam @bellassturniolo @thepubeburgler @gwennybenny @matts-myloverboy @luvs4matt @floralsturniolo @karttpet @sturniolo-fann @benardsgfs @cuntendipity @heartsforvin

[motorsportbarbie13]

Hiiiii couldn’t help but see you do requests, could you do something where after a hard race reader placed on the podium but felt sick and Max catches her when she collapsed after getting out of the car? Maybe with the words "I can't... my legs... everything's tingling..." and him being super worried. Basically a little angsty with a fluffy end where he’s checking on her, can be established relationship or not.

OH ANON. this was so fun.

Enjoy!

Heatstroke In which, as it turns out, Max wasn't just 'Maxplaining' the difficulty of Singapore to you after all

Pairing: Max Verstappen X FerarriDriver!Reader Warnings: fainting, getting sick/weak, max being a knight in shining armor. Word count: 2.2k Masterlist

Max tried to warn you. Lando tried to warn you. Checo and Lewis had tried to warn you. Hell, the entire fucking grid had tried to warn you that Singapore was a different beast. You had thought they were just coddling you and being over dramatic, as the boys tended to be with you. It was a hazard of being the only woman on the grid, which frankly, drove you bat shit crazy because you had earned your way into the red Ferrari seat next to Charles on your own, thank you very much. You didn’t need to be coddled and you didn’t need to be warned off anything. 

But they were right. 

Singapore was a different beast. 

The heat during the day was oppressive but at night? There wasn’t any relief once the intense sun went down either. You were from Michigan though, that midwestern state being famous for its hot and sticky summers so you had thought you’d been prepared.

As you claimed into your sleek red car, lining up P3 behind Max and Lando though you knew you were in trouble before the green flag waved. The thing about sweating in the humidity like this is that there’s no where for the moisture on your skin to go, the air already too heavy so that slick sweat sticks to you, making you even hotter than before. 

“Fuck, this is going to be brutal.” You mumble, hoping that the braid you tied your hair in would stay for the entirety of the race. Suddenly, shaving your hair into a pixie cut like Fred had been suggesting (mostly jokingly) for weeks seemed like a good idea.  

The formation lap is fine. 

The first ten laps are fine, if not a little squirrely thanks to your car being wildly loose. 

The first fifteen laps are fine, if not a bit hot. 

But on lap 23? All hell breaks loose. 

First, your hydration system fails and you’re completely unable to get any water through the tiny straw that you usually flip into your mouth on the straightaway, just like Danny taught you. You’re sweating up a storm with no way to replenish those valuable electrolytes. 

Then, you’re so busy focusing on the fact that you’d give your first born child for a sip of water you nearly slam into the same exact wall that took George out on the last lap of last year’s race. You yank the steering wheel around so hard, you feel something in your wrist pop. The searing pain causes you to over correct and you nearly drive right into your own fucking teammate. 

“Fuck. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.” You groan over the radio, telling your engineer to pass on the message to Charles. 

“Focus on your race.” Your engineer tells you, voice obviously strained just as yours is. “Charles is fine.” 

Well, I sure as fuck am not fine. You think as you fight the car down towards the starting line. 

On lap 45, you’re granted a reprieve when a Sauber goes into the wall, bringing out a yellow flag. The leaders all duck into the pits, including yourself. There’s nothing anyone can do about your water situation and at this point, your instincts have kicked it. 

Max was right and you knew it. Singapore was hell. He had tried to tell you last night, as you had been snuggled up in bed with him, a ritual that you both had become dependent on this season. It seemed cliche, you falling for one of your rivals. You hated it but there was no denying that there was a magnetic chemistry between the two of you that had started the moment you had met last year while you were still driving in F2. 

You had resisted his charm for a while but things had taken a turn the night it was announced you’d be driving for Ferrari alongside Charles. Several of the drivers that lived in Monaco full time insisted on taking you to Jimmy Z’s to celebrate and who were you to say no to a bunch of handsome men paying for your drinks? 

The night ended just as you might expect it: Max drunkenly confessing his year-long crush on you and you drunkenly kissing him in a dark alleyway as you waited for your Uber. What had started off as a drunken confession and your reckless response that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had turned into one of the greatest things that has ever happened to you. Max and you? The pair of you were endgame. 

But none of that mattered now. Not here, in the raging heat and humidity of Singapore. You knew that Max was going to give you shit for not being better prepared the moment you got out of the car. You knew you were in for an ‘I told you so’ lecture on the plane ride back in the morning. You knew Max was right and you had been stupid to underestimate the power this track had over drivers. 

Looking back on your first race in Singapore years later, you don’t quite know how you managed to finish those last laps. Pure determination and stubbornness, Max would insist later on that night. But before you’re able to fully wrap your head around how dangerous of a situation you’d gotten yourself into, the checkered flag is waving and you’ve crossed the finish line in P3, right behind Lando and Max. 

Your third podium of the year. If you had been more coherent, you probably would have been elated. But all you could think about as you pulled your car into parc ferme, right behind that little cardboard 3 sign, was the ice bath you knew was waiting for you somewhere in the paddock. 

Your red racing suit is soaked through and through, you can feel it before you even get out of the car. It takes a mammoth effort to pull the steering wheel out of it’s dock and for a moment, you worry you’re so weak you can’t even do that. In front of you, you see Lando pop out of the car in the P1 spot, elated to have won with a healthy margin of over 20 seconds for the second time that season. 

Max is out of the car too, albeit a bit slower than Lando. There’s a distant buzzing in your ear that sounds eerily like your engineer’s voice asking if you’re okay. But you’re completely unable to focus on anything beyond the tingling sensation in your legs. This wasn’t something you’d ever felt inside a race car in all your years of driving. Everything stung, like a million little fire ants were making a meal out of your flesh. It took every ounce of strength, of which you didn’t have much, to hoist yourself up out of the car. 

Your head swims the moment you stand up straight, and you feel your legs collapse under you. Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Max calling your name but you can’t look up, your helmet suddenly feeling like it weighs 300 pounds. 

Crouching in your car, you desperately try to pull yourself together before anyone notices you’re struggling. You didn’t want to give the media the satisfaction of pulling another ‘look, another woman who thinks she can hang with the rest of the F1 drivers.’ Like they’ve been attempting to do all season. 

Your eyes are closed but you still hear the faint call of Max’s voice somewhere off in the distance. The entire world is reduced down to a singular pin prick of light while you fight to stay conscious, the heat and humidity wrapping their ugly little fingers tightly around your throat. 

Just as you’re about to surrender to the warm quiet of the darkness that seems to be calling out to you, a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, hauling you out of the car like you weigh less than a bag of potatoes. You go limp in the arms of whoever has come to your rescue, collapsing under the strain of what you just put your body though. 

“Baby, please. Look at me.” 

Somehow, your helmet has been removed and you find yourself blinking up at Max. 

When did he get here? You wonder idly, not realizing it was him that pulled you out of the car. 

Max had gone practically feral when GP told him that you’d gone nearly 3/4 of the race without water. He knew how brutal this race was, and the humidity was unusually high tonight. He had gotten out of the car fairly quickly but had panicked when he saw your helmet tipped forward, resting on the halo device and you not moving. 

You lift your head, still wondering where your helmet was and instantly found yourself staring straight into the baby blue eyes of your boyfriend. “Maxie?” You croak, throat feeling like you just dined on a three course meal of sand and gravel. 

“Hey…” He coos, bringing you closer to his chest. “There’s my girl. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” He rubs soothing circles over your back, not caring that the press is having a field day with this. 

“I can’t…” You stutter, struggling to make the words in your head sound coherent when your mouth tries to form them. “My legs…everything is tingling.” 

If you had been a bit more coherent, you would’ve seen the look of absolute panic cross Max’s face. He frantically looks around as he lifts you into his arms, one arm under your knees, the other cradling your back against his chest. He knew you were going to absolutely murder him when you come around and see the pictures. You hated being coddled and hated showing affection on the grid even more. You and Max weren’t really hiding the fact that you were together, most fans knew and it was common knowledge around the paddock but the causal fan might be surprised to find out the lore between the two of you. So this outright show of concern, affection, and panic over the state of you that Max was showing right now? It was absolutely not a common occurrence 

“Interviews are going to have to wait.” Max barks at Jensen, this weeks post-race presenter. “She needs medical attention.” 

Jensen simply nods, allowing you to pass. 

Fred and Charles intercept you half way to the tent, insisting that getting you in the ice baths will be the thing to help you the most. Max, nearly delirious with worry because while your eyes were open and you were somewhat alert, follows their instructions and takes you back behind the garage area where the ice baths had been set up. 

It’s all you can do to stand upright as Max unzips your race suit. It’s so heavy with your sweat that it practically peels off of you with no effort, gravity doing the work for Max. And then your left in just your fireproofs. If you hadn’t been in the middle of the paddock with thousands of people and cameras around, Max would have stripped you down to just your underwear, but that wasn’t an option. 

WIth Max and Charles’ help, you’re able to hoist yourself into the waiting ice bath. The shock of the frigid water jolts some awareness back into you the moment your body is submerged in the glacial water. 

“Holy fuck.” You grit out, eyes closing in pain. 

“I know…I know, schatje. But it’ll get you feeling better so much quicker than anything else. 

You nod, still not fully aware of how you got here but thankful for Max’s steadying presence beside you. He’s crouched down so he’s eye level with you as you ball yourself up to get as much heated skin under the cold water and the worry etched all over his face is enough to steal your breath. 

“Max. Holy fuck. That was…you weren’t just Maxsplaining to me last night, were you?” 

A chuckle finds its way out of his lips, despite the state of panic Max is in. “No, I was not just ‘Maxsplaining’ anything last night, silly girl.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’ve got your fire back, I see. I think you’ll live.” Max leans in to press a kiss to the crown of your head before dropping another kiss on your temple, then your cheek, and finally his lips find their home on yours. Right where they belong. It’s not a lingering kiss, or a passionate one. No. This kiss is filled with gratitude and relief and sheer dumb realization of how much this man loves you. 

Your eyes are open more now, a few minutes in the ice bath doing your heat stroke symptoms good. It takes you a few moments to really grasp the severity of what just happened. How close you came to passing out mid-race. How it was Max that got you out of that car and was at your side before anyone else. 

All around you, the paddock is bustling to life. The scene Max created by hauling you over to Ferrari’s garages has somewhat dissipated. Only a few onlookers are stopped still, but your team remains solidly around you, faces a mask of concern. But the only person you see is Max. 

“Thank you, baby.” You murmur when he leans in for another kiss. 

“Anything for you, schatje.” He rasps, emotion clawing at his throat. “Anything.” 

[shomatoriashi]

10/05/24; 08:05pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they’re feeling sick ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

sylus would be the type to deny he was feeling sick, believing it would be best to save you from your concern while simply shouldering the burden all on his own.

and this morning was one of those moments. he wasn’t able to sleep too well, yet still manages to force himself to take a shower by dragging his feet into the master bathroom. after preparing the shower, he sheds his sleepwear and enters the glass stall. he remains still beneath the spray of water, trying to control his dizzy spells while ignoring how much hotter his skin felt.

despite how weak he felt, sylus manages to wash his hair and body, steadying himself against the slick shower walls as he lathered the shampoo all across his hair and the body wash over his form. being too stubborn to admit that he was even remotely sick, sylus manages to finish cleaning himself, washing off the soap suds before shutting off the shower faucet.

his breathing comes out as labored and uneven, yet still, sylus refused to back down, becoming filled with a determination to simply be with you and join you in the kitchen. it takes him several extra minutes to put on his clothes, the dizziness seeming to become worse the moment he haphazardly puts on his suit. with slow steps, sylus enters the kitchen as the scent of you cooking breakfast was enough to send his stomach reeling, making him stop dead in his tracks.

sylus fights back the urge to gag, hiding his mouth beneath his hand that were now balled up into tight fists. his stomach wouldn’t stop churning, and he felt a droplet of sweat run down his forehead while the blood seemed to drain from his face.

the onychinus leader was uncertain of how long he had been standing there, but his silence was enough to capture your attention. your greeting for him was on the tip of your tongue, but upon noticing on how his complexion had gotten so much paler, you shut off all of the stove burners and came closer to him.

“sylus, are you alright? you look awful.”

he manages to let out a weak chuckle. “that’s not a very nice thing to say, sweetie. you’re practically breaking my heart over he-“

but his words were cut off when another wave of nausea hits him, forcing you to act quickly. you place the palm of your hand against his forehead, letting out a gasp upon feeling how hot his skin was beneath your touch.

“okay mister, it’s back to bed for you.”

words of protests were close to being said from his parted lips, but the continuous nausea along with how hot his body felt was enough to render him silent. only managing a few gasps and grunts here and there, sylus allows you to lead him back to your shared bedroom, not even having the strength to protest when you gently take off his suit. once he was left in his boxers, you seem to flutter around him, gathering something more comfortable to him to wear.

by now, sylus was in a daze, allowing you to place one of his shirts on as he followed your commands, stepping into a cozy pair of grey sweatpants. as you lay him back in bed, you had every intention of letting him rest, wanting nothing more than to care for him during his time of need when sylus stops you from leaving him.

he grabs at your wrist, making you land against his chest. your attempts at moving away from him prove to be futile, as sylus simply tightens his arms around you.

“no… just… stay with me. i’ll feel better if i rest with you in my arms, sweetheart.”

his deep yet sleepy voice manages to win you over, causing you to let out a sigh before visibly relaxing against him. “fine… i’ll let you rest… but when you wake up, i will be the one taking care of you.”

by now, sylus had already shut his eyes, falling into a peaceful slumber now that you were in his arms. and for once in his life, he felt as though being sick with a fever wouldn’t be so bad since you were by his side.

from the countless sleepless nights zayne spent at the hospital, it came as no surprise to you when the stress of his job would come to a boiling point. his lack of sleep coupled along with the duties that came with being one of the top cardiac surgeons was quickly piling up.

at the end of his shift, zayne comes home, utterly exhausted as his eyes slowly began to lose its light. what felt like spider webs takes over his vision, marring it a great deal as he struggled to even drive back safely to his place. knowing that what he was feeling was the start of a migraine, zayne makes sure to drive at least 10 miles below the speed limit, narrowing his gaze in hopes of pushing aside the aura just so he could see the road.

thanks to his years of experience with driving (and a miracle, too), zayne was able to make it back to his home. he drags his feet across the driveway, wincing at the sun due to his eyes increased sensitivity to the light. his head was now pounding with such an intensity that he felt a bit nauseous in response.

as he nears the front door, he sees how you were already standing in front of the doorway with what looked like a loving smile (that damn aura was making it even more difficult to see you clearly now).

however, upon realizing the familiarity of you, zayne immediately crumples on the spot, landing within your open arms as he struggled to keep the pounding headache at bay.

“zayne?!”

he groans upon hearing your concerned cry of his name, “i’m sorry… not so loud since my head… it’s pounding…”

you let out a curse, pulling zayne closer to your body all while softly scolding him. as he steps into your shared home with your arms wrapped around his broad shoulder, the doctor couldn’t help but smile at each word you had thrown at him.

“it’s because you’ve been lacking sleep, right? i told you it wasn’t good for you to pull all nighters!”

“i understand that your patients need you, but you need to take care of yourself, too.”

“if you can’t love yourself more, then i will do it for you.”

zayne’s heart becomes considerably warmer upon hearing those last words, feeling it race beneath his chest. while leading him back to his room, you made sure to shut off all the lights and pull all the thick curtains, painting his home in complete darkness as it worked wonders on easing the painful ache felt against his skull.

with his bed in sight, zayne allows you to gently ease him into bed all while taking off his white coat and dress shoes. as you fold the coat over his chair while placing his shoes beneath it, you returned your attention back to your lover and worked on tucking him into bed, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips in the process.

with you distracted from his kiss, zayne manages to pull you into bed with him by simply gripping at your wrists. a gasp was heard coming from you, and you let out a series of protests when zayne traps you within his embrace.

his eyes were closed, and you felt the way he places his chin against the top of your hair. “zayne, i’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

“you are taking care of me.” zayne admits with a chuckle, “just… you being in my arms like this is already the perfect remedy for me.”

you begin to protest once more, but stop when zayne places a kiss against your forehead. “i’ll be alright. i just need some sleep… and having you in my arms helps a great deal.”

you let out a sigh in response, finally relaxing against him, “okay zayne, if you say so.”

zayne lets out a rich chuckle, adjusting his hold on you before telling you, “of course; i would never lie to you, honey.”

zayne knew that as long as he had you kept tightly within his embrace, then he would no longer feel any amount of pain, for you were his sole source of comfort.

when xavier could feel when his body is fighting an infection, or was just getting weak in general, he will spend his day simply buried beneath the covers of his bed. his appetite will be completely gone, simply choosing to sleep away whatever ailment has struck him.

being so caught up in his dreamless slumber, he remains almost deaf to the world, so caught up in his sleep that he didn’t realize nor hear the moment you entered his apartment using his spare key.

“xavier?” the young hunter was dimly aware of how your voice called out to him, yet he was too tired to respond. your gentle footsteps were heard padding into his room, yet he wasn’t bothered enough to open his eyes.

after all, xavier trusts you a great deal, and he knew that you wouldn’t hurt him.

he continues to go in and out of consciousness, becoming somewhat aware of how your hand was pressed against his cheek and the way your fingertips gently thread through his hair. after a few minutes spent basking in your soft touches, xavier suddenly realizes how your presence was no longer close to him the moment you move away.

xavier could feel the way he was frowning in his sleep, hands already reaching out to try and search for you. yet when he couldn’t feel your presence anymore was the moment xavier forces his eyes to open. the lights shining from his hallways leading to his kitchen was nearly blinding to him, but hearing your shuffling footsteps across his linoleum floors was enough to force him out of bed.

his footsteps were slow, with his strength slowly returning as he walks into the kitchen, seeing you humming a song while cooking what looked like some soup. you see him from periphery and smile at him, “hey babe, i know you weren’t feeling too well, so i decided to stop by and help take care of you.”

letting out a soft hum, xavier comes closer to you, wrapping his arms around you while resting his head against your shoulder. as you cooked, xavier places gentle kisses against your skin, simply clinging to you while basking in your soft giggles.

xavier wouldn’t freely admit this to you (due to how embarrassing it was) but with you here in his arms, he knew he was starting to feel better, quickly regaining his strength thanks to your presence alone.

oddly enough, rafayel seems to bask in those moments when he becomes sick with a fever, his body becoming slightly weaker when the tides begin to recede since he knows that you will be the one to spoil him when he’s feeling so unwell.

upon admitting to you on how weak he was feeling, rafayel basks in your undivided attention on him, granting every single one of his wishes while never once complaining of his clinginess.

for example, after you had cooked some soup for him, he managed to convince you to join him in bed all while begging you to spoon feed him your delicious soup. with the young artist leaning into your touch, he opens his mouth dutifully each time you fed him.

and when he had finished eating his meal, rafayel watched you with eager eyes when you set the emptied bowl to the side before tackling you against his bed. basking in your giggles, rafayel softly joins you in your laughter, hiding his face within the curve of your neck.

with you settled comfortably in his arms, the lemurian now works on wrapping his legs around you, purposely trapping your body against him. “ahhh… much better.” your playful lover admits to you with a tiny grin, still keeping his face hidden within your neck.

you let out a hum of his name, gently delving your fingers into his soft strands of hair. with your eyes closed, you continue to thread your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp in the process while basking in his soft moans. feeling the way his eyelashes flutter against your skin, you knew that rafayel was close to falling asleep on you, making you continue to massage at his scalp in hopes of getting him to rest once more.

upon feeling the way his body gently slumps against you along with his soft breathing felt on your skin, you let out a happy sigh, wrapping both arms around him as you held him in your embrace. your eyes catch a glimpse of his beautiful, sleeping face, the sight of it all making you smile as you pressed a lingering kiss against his forehead.

“rest well, my love. i promise i’ll be here with you.”

and when you saw the way rafayel smiles in his sleep, you swore that you felt your heart turning warm with complete and utter joy.

end notes: because the lads men deserve to be spoiled with love and care, too 🥹 ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[gutghost]

Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?

It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.

It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.

That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.

Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?

bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.

"My love, my everything, oh please-"

"Dont."

Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.

A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.

"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."

Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.

"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"

You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.

"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."

They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.

"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"

You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggle to breathe. Whether it be from guilt or heartbreak, you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so

"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"

Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.

Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?

Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.

They will have you be their's again.

that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.

[legalmente-loca]

can u do a "sick day" with dean winchester x reader but in a kinky way U KNOW like dean s1 e12 PLEASE 😫😫😫😫😫

Oh, I see you, I know what you are😏 A Dean moaning pathetically for you at your command!🫡

Prompts: Sick Day.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut, Dean being sick, I WANNA RIDE

You placed the back of your hand on his forehead and sighed.

“You’re hot.”

You put the cloth back into the water and then wrung it out and placed it on his forehead.

“I know.” He said with a lopsided smile, his eyes narrowed.

“It’s not funny, Dean.”

“I’m not laughing, doll.”

“No, ‘cause you are too weak for that.” You said as you grabbed another damp cloth and gently ran it over his face.

He purred and closed his eyes as you wiped down the cloth. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t worried about him. Dean had been in this state for three days now and the fever didn’t seem to go down.

You had taken off his shirt so you could wet his chest with cold water.

“Doll…” he trembled.

“It’s okay, it will only last a moment.” You murmured softly as you ran the cloth over his chest.

He opened one eye and looked at you. His gaze wandered to your shirt open to the first two buttons. You leaned down to wash the sweat off the side of his neck and he took the opportunity to get a better view of your cleavage. He raised his hand with difficulty and put it under your shirt.

“Dean…” You said in a warning tone.

“Can’t blame a guy for wanting a bite of her sweet little girl.”

He brought his hand up and cupped a breast through your bra.

“For being sick, you’re still a pervert.”

“I’m not a pervert.” He smiled and bit his bottom lip. “I’m just taking advantage of having a damn pretty personal nurse.”

He tried to laugh, but ended up coughing. You quickly approached him and stroked his hair.

“Relax, Dean. Don’t try hard.”

“I’m fine.” He took my hand and stroked it with his thumb.

“You’re not fine, Dean, you’re sick.”

He snorted and brought my hand up his chest.

“Do you know what would cure me?”

“Dean…”

“You… On top of me.”

He brought your hand to his crotch, rubbing it against his pants. He let out a low moan and you bit your bottom lip.

“I don’t know if it’s good in your sta-“

“Darlin’… Please.” He whispered breathlessly, still slowly rubbing your hand against his crotch, applying pressure lightly.

You watched him, his eyes half lidded, struggling not to close them as he whimpered pathetically.

It wasn’t even two minutes later that you were straddling him, naked, riding him.

“Oh, God, baby-” He stammered, his hands on your hips.

You continued bouncing on his cock, your hands on his chest, feeling his skin burn.

“God, my Dean…” You whimpered.

“You’re so good… My sweet little girl.”

He coughed a little and you stopped your movements, looking at him with concern.

“You okay?” You placed a hand on his forehead. “God, you’re on fire.”

You moved to get off him, but his fingers dug into your hips, stopping your movements.

“No…” He broke off with a cough. “D-don’t stop… P-please…” You swallowed, unsure. “Hey…” He brought a hand to your cheek, making you look at him. “I’m fine, really. I want you to continue bouncing on my cock like the good little girl you are.” You took a deep breath and readjusted yourself before beginning your movements again. “That’s it… My good doll…”

You moaned, increasing your movements. The back of the bed hit the wall at the same time you felt his cock entering your most intimate place.

“God, you feel so good.” You whimpered.

“Not as good as your sweet pussy. So soft… S-so tight…”

You continued bouncing on him faster, leaning forward slightly. His hands moved up to the back of your neck, holding you firmly. Well, as firm as possible in its condition.

“Yes, that-that’s it… squeezing me so good. You were made for me.”

His eyes closed and he moved a hand to your breast, squeezing it lightly.

“Are you close?”

“Oh, I’m so f-fucking close, doll.”

He licked his lips and you ran a hand over his forehead, causing him to moan pathetically.

“After this, you will let me take good care of you.”

“Oh, dear, after this I’ll let you cook me any damn vegetable soup.” He murmured.

You purred and went faster, his head sinking into the pillow beneath him, his hips lifting to make sure he was as deep as possible.

He gave one last deep moan, sinking deep into you and shooting his cum, staining your inner walls as you clenched around him and dug your nails into his hair.

After a few seconds, when your breathing returned to normal, you moved again to get off of him, but he held you, bringing your body closer to him.

“J-just… Stay like this for a while.” He buried his face between your breasts as he hugged you.

You placed a kiss on his head as you stayed close and he purred, his body radiating heat, too much, but you didn’t care.

You would cure him later.

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[writersrkive]

Warmth | Aaron Hotchner

summary: Your period arrived, and you are feeling like shit, but that doesn't mean you won't go to work. Your body is pleading to rest, but you are stubborn, so you act like you are fine. However, Hotch is there to take care of you.

genre: comfort pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader warnings: cramps and physical discomfort caused by menstruation, fainting.

a/n: maybe is not a good one, but I'm on my period, so let me be delulu. English is not my first language, please be kind <3.

Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)

When your lower back started to hurt, days prior, you knew what day of the month was getting closer. You prepare yourself, however that morning your body felt heavy, almost numb.

Walking out of bed, going to the bathroom, showering and dressing up were difficult tasks. The morning didn't go any better. You had problems with your car, the traffic was hell, and when you arrived at Quantico, fifteen minutes late, your ID wasn't in your wallet. You had to walk back to your car and go up to the floor where you worked five minutes later.

“Did you have cardio yesterday? Is that the reason why you are so late?” Derek asked, teasing, but you were not in the mood to joke with your best friend.

"Maybe I just took too long to hide the body of the rat that was bothering me last night, do you want me to show you what I did with it?" I asked, finally sitting on the chair to rest my lower back. My belly was hurting a lot.

“Uh.” Emily said and chuckled when she saw Derek's surprised expression.

“Maybe not the time.” The dark skinned whisper.

“Definitely not.” I answered. “Did Hotch…” I started, turning to JJ.

“Don't worry. He has been inside his office since we arrived. I don't think he noticed."

A few minutes later, I was leaning towards the files I had on my desk, not because I couldn't see, but because I needed to feel something warm towards my belly. My hands weren't enough, but it was all I had.

“Take this.” Spencer said, handing me some pain killers.

“Thanks, but last time I tried, they didn't work."

“Try again.” Emily said softly, understanding what was happening. “If you don't feel good, tell us.”

“Thanks, but seriously, I'm fine.”

That wasn't true though. Thank God we had just file day, because I wouldn't be able to fly in that condition. But at least I would have the opportunity to sleep a little thereby.

I needed something warm. So I stood up and walked to the mini cafeteria, where there was a coffee machine, with tea bags on the side and snacks. My tea was already prepared, I only wanted to grab a chocolate bar, but the cramps hit me, making the cup of tea almost fall from my hands.

“Hey, hey. Easy there.” That calm and velvety voice made me realise the man who I liked was now next to me, helping me by taking the cup and steadying myself with his other hand.

“Sorry, boss.” I whispered.

“What happened? Are you sick?”

“Kinda… I'm just not feeling good. You know, that day of the month.” I answered, still trying to breathe, feeling a tear of cold sweat slide down my back.

“It's okay. You need to rest. Go home.” He said with a firm, yet soft tone of voice. The team was always saying he only used that tone with me.

“I'm fine, seriously.”

I could see in his eyes that he was not convinced. “Okay, but let me know if you need something. Don't think I didn't notice that you arrived late.”

“I'm really sorry. That won't happen again.” My cheeks were probably burning, and I didn't know if it was because of my period, or the embarrassment.

“What I'm trying to say is that I know that you are not feeling good, and I will understand if you need to go back home.” He reassured me, lightly caressing the arm that still held me.

“Thanks.” I whisper.

“Here. Take this.” He handed me a warm compress that he took out of the microwave after heating it for a few minutes.

The tea and compress helped a lot, however, the painkiller didn't work. I felt like I was about to faint. The noises of our workmates, the weather, and even poor JJ's breathing was stressing me out. A break was what I needed, but I wouldn't be able to take one, so instead, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know Hotch was observing me from his seat, through the office window.

In the bathroom things weren't better. My forehead was covered in sweat, my throat felt dry and my legs and arm were about to give up. All of that was reflected on the mirror in front of me.

Someone knocked.

I opened the door and then my vision turned black. Next I remember strong arms embracing me on the floor. “That's it. I'm taking you home.” He said.

“I'm…” I tried to talk.

“No, you are not fine. Sometimes you need to hear your body and rest.” He explained gently, moving my hair out of my face. “You are going to drink water. I'm going to get your stuff and I'll take you home.” It was obvious there was no room for discussion.

“Got it, boss.” I whispered, letting myself smile on his chest. It wasn't a surprise how excited I was because he was taking care of me, even if I was feeling like shit. He was the warmth I needed.

[rose-petles]

You’re sick -> N.RK [ 니키 ]

Warning → No warning.

Paring → Caring-Boyfriend!Niki X Sick-Girlfriend! Reader.

Synopsis → Niki takes care of you as your sick in the night.

You woke up, it was in the early morning as you looked at the clock. It eased 02:34AM, you felt your stomach clenching and you before you knew it you were running into the bathroom covering your mouth.

When you reached the bathroom you threw up in the toilet, Your boyfriend Niki woke up to your little feet steps tunnkng to the bathroom. He groaned as he got up and heard you throwing up.

He sat up and rushed over to you, he saw your shirt sticking to your body, sweat. He knelt down behind you and gently patted your back. He took the hair tie that was on his wrist and put tied up your hair, "I got you love," You heard his words of encouragement.

He continued to rub your back, "Its okay love, i'm here. Let it all out love.." She soothed, holding you until you finished throwing up.

You flushed the toilet with your shaky hands and laid your head down on his chest, "Let me get you some water love.." he said rubbing your back and getting up from behind you.

He held the cup and for you as she let you take sips after you laid beck on her and let her hold you while you still feel a bit nauseous. "Still feeling sick..?" Niki asked rubbing your back.

You sighed, "Just a little bit."

He nodded and rubbed your shoulders gently, Niki pulled away so he could check your temperature.

He gently placed her hand on your forehead, "You definitely have a fever. C'mon baby, lets get you back to bed..."

He then stood up then helped you to stand up and walked to the sink. He picked you up and placed you on the counter, he helped you brushed your teeth and let you rinse out your mouth. He helped you to bed and got you a new shirt to change into.

Your eyes grew heavy from the exhaustion and you felt like you didn't have the strength to open them so you ended up closing them. While you dozed off to sleep Niki grabbed the empty trash can and placed it near the bed.

He also placed a cool cloth over your forehead, causing you to hum contently. "Thank you, love.." you mumbled tiredly.

Niki then climbed into bed beside you and wrapped an arm around you. "You're welcome, princess. How are you feeling? Sick at all?"

"Kinda. But my stomach hurts more than anything."

You groaned.

Niki slid his hand under your shirt and began to rub your stomach. He kept his touch light and soft so you would only feel relief.

"Is this better?" He wondered to which you cracked a small smile. "Mhmm.. Yeah, it feels nice. Thank you."

He kissed your neck softly. "What else can I do, darling?"

"Just keep doing this. Trust me, you're making me feel better already." you weakly smile.

Niki felt relieved to hear you say that because she hates seeing you so sick and miserable and whatever he can do to help you he’s always willing to do in a heartbeat.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, baby. Get some sleep. I'm here for you if you need me. I promise I'll take good care of you until you feel better."

"Thank you. I love you." You muttered as you began to fall asleep, grateful that you weren't alone in a time like this.

"I love you too," he kissed your warm cheek lovingly.

"Sleep tight my y/n."

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Copyright © 2024 rose-petle/Rostle. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[aboutcustardcreams]

Until next time

Agathario x reader

The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3

warning: angst, a touch of fluff

next chapter (time skip)

The baby’s soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert. 

“Move,” the Green Witch muttered in a placid order. 

You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, “No.”

The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits. 

Rio sighed, “we aren’t doing this. You promised–”

“I know what I did,” you interjected, closing your hands into fists, “But I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,” you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didn’t even hold in your arms yet. “I-I can’t let you take him,” turning around, your eyes focused on the baby’s tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. “I mean, he’s innocent. It can’t be his time…”

“My loves–” 

“Just let him live,” Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, “Please, don’t take him from me.” 

When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, “I love you,” she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, “I love you so much.”

Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him. 

“I’m not giving up. Not yet,” you insisted. 

“You talk as if I didn’t wish for him to live,” Rio retorted in disbelief. 

“Oh, spare us, Rio!” Agatha snapped. “You’re the Green Witch, it’s not like you’ve got no power at your disposal. And yet you’re choosing the easy way.”

Rio couldn’t believe her ears. “The easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!”

You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuck’s sake. Why couldn’t you three be happy about it? Why couldn’t you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio weren’t common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you. 

“Then start acting more like a mother,” Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper. 

“It’s not my fault I’ve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,” Rio’s voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence. 

“My loves, please we shouldn’t–”

The sound of Agatha’s mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. “What about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.” 

“Our son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.”

“So be it. All I care about is my son.” Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness. 

You considered Rio’s words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldn’t say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldn’t find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out. 

“If you take him, I’ll hate you forever,” she insisted rather calmly now. 

“Agatha…”

Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didn’t mean that. She couldn’t. When a muffled sound slipped from Rio’s lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You weren’t supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that. 

“She doesn’t mean it,” you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, “Rio, listen to me, she doesn’t–”

“I do.” Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off.  

You hissed, “Quiet, Agatha.” 

Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath. 

“We are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?” 

When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, “I know, baby. I know,” she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.

You swallowed thickly, “I don’t want to say goodbye.” 

She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl. 

“I can only offer time,” she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agatha’s eyes.

You arched an eyebrow confusedly, “what does it mean?”

“How much time?” Asked Agatha. 

She shrugged, as if she didn’t know or she couldn’t really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that you’d have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your son’s soul, you’d be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rio’s. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.

“You know I’ll still try when the time comes, don’t you?”

Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, “I know, love. Thought I’d hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.” 

It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. “It’s not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.” 

She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agatha’s shoulders, “You two will make a good job.”

You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, “you sound like you’re leaving us behind,” she trailed off. 

When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter. 

“No, she’s not-” you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth. 

“Rio, please, don’t do this–”

“I must. I can’t be seen around him,” her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. “Might be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.” 

“The Fates have no power if you don’t do your part,” Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.

Rio smacked her lips in return. “It’s not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.” 

You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your son’s life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldn’t be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things you’ve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit. 

Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, “I’ll keep him hidden for as long as I can.” 

Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face. 

Rio brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair first, “you did amazing, my love,” she praised her, causing a light brush on the witch’s cheeks. She couldn’t quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch. 

“Hi” she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rio’s fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. “I can’t promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure you’re happy and loved,” she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agatha’s. A watery smile tugged at her lips, “And trust me, you’re so so loved already, little one.” 

You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha. 

“We should name him Nicholas,” she said after a moment of contemplation.  

Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldn’t agree more on it, “Nicholas Scratch,” you added, “cause we made him from scratch.” 

Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the baby’s tender little hands. “That’s perfect, my love. Isn’t it, Agatha?”

Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agatha’s. You ran a hand in Agatha’s hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rio’s mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, “it’s going to be okay.”

Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her. 

“Take care of your moms, Nicky,” she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agatha’s. 

Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, you’d be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life. 

“Don’t be sad…”

You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didn’t trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that. 

“You’re asking too much of me,” you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots. 

“Nena, look at me,” Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, “You wouldn’t let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?” 

Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, “I hate that you’re doing this.”

“It’s for Nicky…” She said simply. 

Agatha buried her face in the baby’s naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent. 

“And I am sorry,” when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, “so sorry you don’t get to be his mother. It’s your right to be.”

But Rio’s lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. “Don’t be. I’ll get my turn eventually…  and for now, I’ll be his–”

“Please, don’t say shadow,” you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around you’d see Agatha’s lips stretch into a smile too. 

“Guardian, then.”

You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth. 

“Now come here, I waited enough–” 

The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you. 

Agatha could see Rio’s face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair. 

Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, “Nos vemos, mis amores.” 

You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace. 

“We will be fine, Aggs.” 

When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost. 

“Yeah,” she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead. 

When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agatha’s lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didn’t want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive. 

When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, “stay here for now. Let me do the rest.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”

“Agatha,” you merely rolled your eyes at that, “You just had our baby, I think it’s not the end of the world if you sit this one out,” your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. It’s not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldn’t be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and there’s no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you. 

“Be careful,” it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her. 

You chuckled lightly, “I always am,” you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head. 

[blackenedsnow]

um you do requests for shadow the hedgehog right? Can we have a shadow fic with a s/o who has a extreme fear of doctors and needles so they have been negecting themselfs ecen though they are extermely sick?.. and shadow has to help them through a doctors appointment?.

trust in me

WARNING: Fear of doctors/needles (medical anxiety), mentions of illness and neglecting health

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

NOTE: Hi anon! Thank you so much for this heartfelt request <3 Sending so much love and care your way! Take care of yourself <333

SUMMARY: When your fear of doctors and needles causes you to neglect your health, Shadow steps in, determined to help you face your fears and get the care you need, no matter how much support it takes.

The room felt like it was shrinking. You sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, but even the layers didn’t help the cold sweat trickling down your back. You’d been sick for a while now, and while you could try to hide it with casual excuses, Shadow wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed.

“Enough.” His voice cut through the silence like a blade. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, Shadow fixed you with a pointed glare that only barely masked his concern. “You’re not getting any better. You need to see a doctor.”

Your chest tightened immediately. “No. I’m fine—really. I just need—”

“You need treatment,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “Don’t lie to me.”

You shrank under his gaze, your fingers gripping the blanket. “I can’t,” you whispered. “Nooo.. it’s too much. I can’t do it, Shadow.”

He softened at your admission, the sharpness in his eyes fading. Shadow wasn’t good with words, but he wasn’t heartless. He walked over and crouched in front of you, his crimson gaze locking with yours.

“I understand,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady. “Fear can be... overwhelming. But letting it control you? That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your throat tighten with emotion. “What if I panic? What if it hurts? What if—”

“Stop.” Shadow placed a gloved hand over yours, his grip reassuring but not forceful. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be there every step of the way. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak.

“Then let me help you,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

The waiting room was quiet, save for the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of a magazine being flipped. You sat stiffly in the chair, arms folded tightly across your chest, as though you could physically keep the anxiety from breaking through your skin.

Shadow sat beside you, calm as ever. His arms were crossed, one foot tapping impatiently, but his sharp red gaze kept flicking to you. “Stop bouncing your knee,” he muttered, but his voice wasn’t as gruff as usual. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”

“I can’t help it,” you whispered, your voice tight. “I hate this. I shouldn’t even be here.”

“You’re here because you’re sick,” Shadow replied firmly. “If you’d gone earlier like you should have, you wouldn’t be this bad off.”

You shot him a glare, but the truth stung too much to argue. The constant fever, the coughing fits, the bone-deep exhaustion—your body had been screaming for help for weeks, but the thought of doctors and needles kept you rooted in denial. It wasn’t until Shadow had carried you out of the couch this morning, wrapped in a blanket, that you realized there was no more avoiding it.

The nurse called your name, and your stomach dropped. Shadow stood, glancing down at you. “Come on.”

Your legs felt like lead, but somehow, you followed him. The nurse led the two of you into a small, sterile room, and the faint scent of antiseptic hit your nose. You froze in the doorway. Shadow glanced over his shoulder, catching your hesitation immediately.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. His voice softened, only slightly, but it was enough to steady you. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You swallowed hard and nodded, letting him guide you inside. The nurse took your vitals—though she had to coax you into holding still for the blood pressure cuff—and scribbled notes onto her clipboard before leaving you to wait for the doctor.

Sitting on the exam table, you curled your fingers into the edge of the paper covering it, trying not to fidget. Shadow leaned against the wall, watching you closely.

“You don’t have to look so terrified,” he said dryly. “The doctor isn’t going to attack you.”

“It feels like they will,” you muttered.

He let out a quiet “hmph,” but his gaze softened. “I’ll handle the talking. You just sit there and focus on not passing out.”

When the doctor finally entered, you tensed again, your heart pounding. She was calm and professional, asking routine questions that Shadow answered without hesitation. He rattled off your symptoms and timeline with a sharp precision that made it clear he’d been paying more attention to your health than you had.

“We’re going to need to run some tests,” the doctor said, glancing at you. “A blood draw is necessary, along with—”

“No.” The word left your mouth before you could stop it, panic flashing across your face. “I can’t—”

“They’ll do it quickly,” Shadow cut in, his tone firm. He stepped closer to you, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. “It’s not going to kill you. You can do this.”

The doctor hesitated, looking between the two of you, then nodded. “I’ll have the nurse bring the supplies.”

You stared at Shadow, your breathing uneven. “I don’t think I can—”

“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice steady. “Look at me.”

You did, locking onto the crimson of his eyes. “Breathe,” he instructed. “In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Just like that.”

When the nurse returned, Shadow didn’t move from your side. He guided you to focus on his voice while the nurse swabbed your arm and prepared the needle. When the prick came, you flinched, but his hand was steady on your shoulder.

“It’s over,” he said quietly, the moment the needle was withdrawn. “See? You didn’t die.”

Your lips twitched at his deadpan delivery. “That was awful.”

“Maybe. But you got through it.” His gaze was unrelenting, but there was something warm in his tone that made your chest ache. “Next time, don’t wait until you’re half-dead to get help. Got it?”

You sighed but nodded. “Got it.”

Shadow smirked, his confidence unshaken. “Good."

[lovelyjj]

💔

Having JJ as your boyfriend was exhilarating. There was never a dull moment. You loved each other with every fiber of your being. The two of you were soulmates, destined to be together. JJ brought out the best in you. JJ wanted to be a better man for you because you deserved the world. You have been dating for a while now. It was nothing short of amazing. Not only did you love each other, you wanted a future together.

Your sex life was truly unbelievable. It was mind blowing. JJ was a expert. He knew your body like the back of his hand. He always made you feel comfortable and listened to what felt good. Having sex with JJ was magical. Two people making love and enjoying each other’s company. JJ did his best to make you happy and focused on your pleasure.

The two of were in JJ’s room at the château, lounging in JJ’s bed. JJ was tracing shapes on your thigh. You were cuddling. Both of you were enjoying the peacefulness of the evening. JJ breaks the silence by saying, “I love you so much baby, so glad I have you by my side.” “I love you too,” you replied. JJ cups your face and leans in for a kiss. Your lips crush together in a messy kiss. JJ feels so lucky to have you. He feels his heart beat faster. Your stomach does little flips and you feel tingly as you make out.

JJ’s tongue slides into your mouth. Your tongues dance together as you kiss. “Need you so bad baby,” JJ pulls back a little and whispers over your lips. You smile at his words and run a hand through his hair. “Can I take this off?” JJ asks pulling at your shirt. “Yes.”

JJ removes your shirt leaving you in your lacey black bra. Then JJ takes off his shirt revealing his toned abs. You place your hands on his stomach and run your fingers over his abs causing JJ to chuckle. JJ starts to kiss your neck sucking deep purple marks onto your skin. JJ pushed your bra straps off your shoulders and unclipped it. He kissed both of your breasts and massaged them with his hands.

You arched your back pushing your boobs into JJ’s hand and let out a soft moan. “Need to be inside you,” JJ pants. You nod your head and remove your shorts. JJ slides his pants off along with his boxers. You lay on your back as JJ hovers over you. He lines his cock at your entrance. “Ready for me baby?”

“Yes.” JJ slowly entered you with a deep groan. He gives you a minute to adjust before he moves. Then JJ pulls all the way out just to slam back in. He sets a brutal pace as he fucks you deep and raw. You squeezed around him and JJ saw stars. “You feel so good,” JJ exclaimed.

JJ easily slid in and out with how wet you were. You could tell he was getting close with the way his dick was twitching. He could tell you were getting close because your walls were spasming. “I’m gonna cum,” JJ breathed.

“Give it to me,” you begged. JJ thrusted again and again as he released deep inside you. “Oh god, baby… Yes… Tiffany… Yes…” JJ yelled as he came. He continued to move through his release drawing it out.

“Who is Tiffany?” You paused absolutely shocked and sick to your stomach.

JJ freezes, realizes his mistake. His eyes widen as he processes what he just said. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Tiffany was my ex. We broke up years ago.” He looks at you with a pained expression. “Please forgive me.”

“JJ what the fuck?!” You were furious. How could he have done this to you. You thought he loved you.

JJ pulls out and puts some sweats on. He starts pacing the room. "I don't know what came over me. It was a slip of the tongue, I swear. Tiffany and I haven't been together in so long. You mean everything to me."

“Hmm,” you speak.

He stands still, running a hand through his hair in distress. "I know I messed up badly. Calling out her name while making love to you... It's unforgivable. I'm so sorry." He looks at you imploringly. "Can you tell me what you're thinking?"

“Im thinking how can you love me when your thinking about another girl. how can this happen? i thought you loved me and only me now i’m not so sure.”

His expression turns agonized. "No, no, baby, please don't think that. I love you with all my heart. Tiffany is just a ghost from my past. I never loved her the way I love you. Please, please believe me. I'm begging you."

“I’ll have to think about it.”

He nods solemnly, his heart breaking. "I understand. I've given you reason to doubt me and that kills me. Take all the time you need to think. I'll be here, hoping and praying that you'll forgive me someday. I never meant to hurt you. You're my whole world.”

You stand up and get dressed. “I’m gonna sleep on the couch.”

He watches helplessly as you walk to the couch, his heart heavy with sorrow. "Baby, please... Don't do this. We can talk, work through this together. The couch is not the answer." He follows you, kneeling beside the couch.

“I think i just need some space.” You admit.

“Oh um okay, I’ll be just in the next room if you need me, again i’m so sorry,” JJ replied sadly. He never felt so guilty and ashamed.

JJ went to sleep that night thinking of ways he could prove to you he loved you and to win you back. He couldn’t loose you and that’s what scared him the most. He didn’t think he would survive loosing you.

part 2

[happy74827]

You Must Be Haunting Me

[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Even after a year, you’re still haunted by the Ice Truck Killer.

WC: 2643

Category: Angst, No Comfort {TW: Not Proof Read 😞}

I did another one!! Are you guys proud of me? 🥹

So, rewatching the season, I forgot how sassy he was so I wanted to really show off that aspect in this one. Then my patience was over it, so the ending is just kinda… bland. But it’s okay because it’s Brian (he seriously needs more attention FOR REAL).

Anyway, for those 14 Brian fans… this one’s for you 🫶

『••✎••』

The dark circles beneath your eyes. The way you can barely stand on your feet, your body so exhausted that you can hardly lift a finger to defend yourself. You’re like a walking corpse, and he's the one responsible for putting you in this state.

It started one year ago. One year ago, you moved to Miami and became the victim of a killer. It wasn't until his brother came along and put him six feet under that you began to heal and get back into the normal, everyday routine. But then he showed up.

It was one of those nights where you’d randomly get a jolt in your sleep. You sat up straight, the sheets pooling at your hips as you looked around the room. Your breathing was shallow, and sweat was beading on your brow. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you slowly laid back down.

"You sleep soundly."

His voice caused your heart to stop. You knew who it was, the same man who had terrorized you, who made your life a living hell. Slowly, you turned to your side, staring wide-eyed at the dark figure at the end of your bed. Your hands began to shake and tremble as you reached for the lamp on your nightstand.

"Oh, don't bother."

In an instant, with the sound of fingers snapping, the lamp's light went out. You could hear a chuckle coming from the intruder, and you were paralyzed, afraid to make a move.

I mean, it couldn’t be him, right? It was just some sick joke. He was dead. He couldn’t be here.

He couldn’t.

But, god, he looked the exact same. The curly dark hair, the pale skin. He was just a silhouette in the darkness of your room, and yet, you could tell that the grin he wore was the same grin that he had on the day you met him.

"You look like you’ve seen a ghost." He mused, moving closer towards you. His weight caused the bed to dip slightly, and you could feel the fear begin to take over your body. "Should I start saying boo?"

Your throat was dry, and you couldn’t speak; all you could do was stare at him, frozen in place. He lowered his head in amusement and chuckled, leaving his lips once more.

It was when his eyes weren’t on you that broke you out of your daze. You shot up from the bed, nearly tumbling over yourself as you ran to the dresser, grabbing the nearest thing you could find and throwing it at him. It was a vase, one that held a bouquet of flowers, that shattered against the wall, causing him to look up.

"…Was that supposed to scare me?" He asked, raising a brow as he tilted his head, an almost bored expression on his face. "You’ve got the aim of a blind man."

"Get out of my house!"

The sound of your own voice startled you. Anger wasn’t necessarily the emotion you normally felt, but now it was the only thing that was running through you. Anger and adrenaline.

He stood from the bed, taking a step closer to you, the broken glass crunching beneath his feet. You didn’t care; you took a step back, holding your hand out as if it would stop him from coming any closer.

"Get away from me, you psycho."

He laughed. He actually fucking laughed.

"Psycho?" He repeated, "That’s a new one."

"Stay back." You hissed, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

He took another step.

"Don't touch me!"

Another. He was only inches away from you now, and the thought of him being so close made you want to vomit.

The annoyed sigh he let out when he noticed your hand trembling was enough to set you off. You didn’t think twice; the only thought in your mind was to get him out, and so you did.

When he was walking towards you, your mind remembered the small kitchen knife that you left on the counter. Quickly, you ran past him, dodging his hands as he reached out to grab you, and grabbing the knife, and in one quick motion, you turned and stabbed him.

"That’s not going to—"

It went right through his chest. He stared down at the knife, then up at you, with that all-knowing expression.

He sighed again, "…work."

What the fuck?

In the next moment, he vanished, and the knife fell to the ground, the clattering against the linoleum floor echoing through the house.

For a minute, you thought it was a dream. That is, until he appeared in the chair beside you, his arms crossed, his eyes boring holes into your face.

"You can’t hurt me." He said, his tone flat, his eyes narrowed, "I can’t either. Not physically, anyhow."

You stared at him. He stared at you.

"I can fuck you up, though." He continued, "In many ways. Mentally, emotionally… The possibilities are endless."

"What the hell is this?" You questioned, your brows furrowing, "Are you some kind of— of, what, demented Casper?"

His expression was unreadable, but then again, he always had that look on his face.

"Casper? Wow, seriously? You remind me why I don't watch movies." He groaned, shaking his head.

"You didn't answer my question."

"And you won't like my answer."

"Try me."

"You’ve lost it." He shrugged, "Completely off the hinges, you know? And that's saying something, considering who you’re talking to."

"I don't—"

"Have a mental disorder."

"What?"

"That's what it's called. When someone has delusions of grandeur, where they think someone is after them. Someone, of course, meaning me." He explained, a grin spreading across his lips. "But, no. It's all in your head. Just. Like. Me."

The words sank in, and you stared down at the floor, your mind processing everything he was telling you.

"No, I'm not crazy." You murmured, mostly to yourself, but loud enough for him to hear.

"You're not? Well, how else would you explain me being here?" He asked, cocking a brow, "I’m dead, remember? My dear brother made sure of that."

"I—"

"And you know damn well I’d never wear this out of the office. It's not exactly the most flattering."

It was then you noticed what he was wearing.

He had his lab coat on. His entire outfit was the same thing he wore the day he met you. You were with Debra to question him about Tucci’s recovery and, god, if he didn't make the biggest impression.

It was pretty hard not to like him when he was giving one of his patients, a little boy, a lollipop from his jar and making a joke.

You remember telling Deb, 'What a nice guy'.

Oh, the irony. The fucking irony.

"What a nice guy." You found yourself repeating before looking him up and down, your lips curling in disgust. "You were just fucking with me the whole time, weren't you?"

He shrugged, "What's it matter now? I'm dead."

"It matters to me."

"Would you like me to apologize? To beg for your forgiveness?" He asked, a mocking tone in his voice, "Would that make you feel better?"

You were silent.

"Wouldn’t do anything." He continued, "And it certainly wouldn't change a thing. But, hey! By all means, you go right ahead and play pretend. Maybe then, you'll sleep better at night."

You scoffed. He was such a piece of shit.

"How much are you gonna torture me, huh?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, "Torture me like you did, Debra? Like your brother? Are you just going to follow me around like a bad smell? Make my life a living hell, like you did theirs?"

"I didn't torture him." He stated, a hint of malice in his tone, "He's my brother."

"Like that means shit."

"He was just like me. A lot like me, in fact." He went on, his eyes flickering over to you. "I could see myself in him."

"Well, he killed you." You countered, "That doesn't really seem like brotherly love."

"He did what he had to." He shrugged, "That Harry… he was a real piece of work, wasn't he?"

You were quiet again.

"And Debra?"

"A pain in my ass. Always sticking her nose in places where it doesn't belong." He replied, shaking his head. "But, then again, that was her job, wasn't it?"

"You broke her. You tore her apart." You snapped, the memories of the past year filling your mind. "She really loved you. She really did."

"I know."

"You don't care."

"Not at all." He said, the faintest hint of a smirk appearing. "Not in the slightest."

"Fuck you."

He laughed, his laughter filling the room before it faded out, leaving the both of you in a heavy silence.

He had a different aura around him this time. It might be the aura of a dead man, a hallucination. But he still felt so… present. Even his mannerisms were the same—the way he moved his hands, the way he tilted his head. His eyes still had that glint of mischief. It was so real.

So. Fucking. Real.

"If your just in my head, why can’t I just kick you out?" You asked, finally breaking the silence, "Make you go away."

"Because, even after a year, I still affect you." He answered, his voice low. "Even though you try to ignore it and push the memories back, I’ll always be there. In the back of your mind."

"Why couldn’t you be my dead childhood dog or something? Why do you have to be some crazy serial killer that ruined my life?" You said, shaking your head.

"I'm not boring."

"Neither was my childhood dog."

"Rocky didn't have a single interesting thing about him. All he did was drool and lick himself." He countered, his lips pursing.

"How the hell do you know— oh, fuck this. Just go away." You groaned, rubbing your temples.

He didn't respond, and the room was quiet. For a second, you thought he actually listened. Then, you heard him hum.

"Hm. No."

"Jesus Christ."

"Now, that's really a name I haven't heard in a while."

This was how it became. For months, you would have these random conversations with him, and no matter how much you tried, he would never leave. Everywhere you went, he was there.

Work.

Shopping.

Even at the damn bar.

You had no idea what this was. You didn't know if this was a side effect of the trauma you went through. Whether it was your mind trying to cope or just the result of a lack of sleep. Whatever it was, it was draining the life out of you.

You felt like a shell. Your coworkers knew something was wrong. The way your eyes were dull and lifeless, the dark circles, the slump in your shoulders.

They were concerned—except Debra. She was too concerned about the case to pay attention to anyone else.

You weren't really sure what day it was. Or month. Time was going by, and you were slowly dying mentally, as he put it.

"Is this because I can't sleep?" You asked him one night, staring at the ceiling, your voice hoarse, "Because I can't go to sleep without seeing your face? Or is it because I don't have the energy to live?"

"I would say both."

You groaned, throwing an arm over your eyes, "What did I do to deserve this?"

"It's not what you did." He replied, his eyes locked on yours, "It's what I did."

"Yeah, well, thanks."

"Don't mention it."

The two of you sat there in silence before he cleared his throat.

"How are things with my favorite bloodhound?" He asked a curious tone in his voice. "Is he still sleeping with that cute blonde, or did he wise up and break it off?"

"Rita. Her name is Rita." You corrected him, shaking your head, "She’s his girlfriend, not his flavor of the week."

"Hm."

"And, for your information, they're fine. Great, actually."

"How disappointing." He scoffed, leaning back in his seat. He genuinely looked upset, which caused a snicker to leave your lips. "What's so funny?"

"You are." You replied, looking over at him, "You're so pathetic."

He blinked.

"You're a dead man. Dead. How can you be disappointed about his love life?"

"I'm his older brother." He stated, his jaw tightening, "I want what's best for him."

"Really? Then why aren't you in his brain, harassing him?" You questioned, a smile coming onto your face, "You know what? I bet he's sleeping great. He doesn't have to deal with this. Not like I do."

"I would love to give him a good old-fashioned night terror. It'd be easy, too. He's not exactly the most stable." He replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "But his brain is too messy. He's always been that way."

"I guess he takes after his brother."

"He took after our father. The one thing I did was make him forget about it." He retorted, his tone harsh, "Notice how he never talks about the old man? Or the past? Now it’s only me. That's because of me. I took him from that shitty childhood. I gave him a better life. A better everything. I could’ve given him the world."

You were quiet.

"Instead, he killed me." He spat, the venom in his voice obvious. "Because of that stupid, half-witted sailor mouth."

You honestly had to give your brain props for this one. He was too realistic. He was too Brian.

"You know what?" You began, sitting up, "I really am feeling a lobotomy."

At that, he actually laughed. Now that… that was different from the chuckles and snickers, this was a full laugh, something you haven't heard since you met him. It was loud, it was obnoxious, and it was the only thing you could hear.

It was the last thing you heard before the most amazing thing happened.

You fell asleep.

In the morning, you woke up to a pounding on your door and an annoying ringing. Groaning, you pulled the pillow over your head, hoping the noises would disappear. Instead, they only got louder, and you had no choice but to get up.

"Coming, coming!" You shouted, shuffling out of the bedroom and towards the door, the banging and the ringing still going on.

When you opened the door, you saw Debra.

"Good. You're up." She greeted, her expression annoyed. "Where were you last night?"

"Sleeping. What are you, my mom?"

"I called you. I even sent someone by your house. You weren't here." She stated, a slight bite in her voice, "And I'm not your mom, but if I were, I'd spank you."

"For what?"

"We have a meeting in five minutes." She said, checking her watch, "Get dressed. I'm waiting."

"Shit."

In record time, you threw on some jeans and a shirt, and within the next three minutes, you were out the door and in the car with Debra.

But as she pulled out of the driveway, he appeared directly in front of her.

"Hey, watch—"

But he only winked at you before disappearing. And at the time, you found it nothing but him being a prick. But, later on, you would realize.

This was the last time you would ever see him.

A month went by. And another. And another.

Then, a year.

The visions of the past still came. The thoughts of him were still there. The memories were still fresh. And sometimes, if you listened closely, you could still hear that laugh.

But you weren’t afraid anymore. You had no reason to be. And so, you moved on. You continued living because that's what he would've hated. And that made you smile.

Because, now, it wasn't him haunting you.

It was you haunting him.

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

sick day pt 2 (previous part)

summary: paige caught your cold, now the roles are reversed and you look after her

content warnings: none!

request by: anon, this one for u bby 💋

You were getting ready for a day of studying at the library, after being away from classes while you were sick, you had a lot of catching up to do. You packed your bag with books, your laptop and headphones of course, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate without music. You felt almost completely better, Paige had nursed you back to health with all her home remedies and lots of hugs.

A knock at your door caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting anyone. Your roommates were either at work or in class and Paige was at her morning workout.

You opened the door sceptically and was met with a very sorry looking Paige. Her eyes were hooded and her nose three shades redder than usual, she looked exhausted.

“Hi P, what are you doing here?” You ask but you have a feeling you already know the answer. Paige looked just like you did a few days ago. She was sick.

“Geno sent me home. I’m sick.” She pouted and you opened your arms for your girlfriend to fall into. Despite Paige standing almost a whole foot taller than you, you still managed to wrap her in your arms tightly and pull her into your apartment.

“I don’t want to say I told you so but I did indeed tell you so.” You say in jest, you had warned Paige not to get too close to you but she insisted on staying by your side until you felt better, she continued to hug and kiss you as if nothing was wrong and now she was paying the price.

“I just wanted to look after you.” Paige replied, her voice croaking and she winced at the feeling.

“I know baby and I love you so much, now it’s my turn to look after you.” You say, slipping her bag off her shoulder and taking her hand in yours, “Let’s get you to bed.” You rub soft circles on the back of her hand as you lead her to your bedroom.

You pick out some shorts and t-shirt Paige had left at your place since she stays over so often. “Arms up baby.” You instruct Paige, who’s now sat limp on the edge of your bed, shoulders slouched and eyes squinting. You remember how the bright light stung your eyes while were sick and you flick it off at the switch, the natural day light streaming through the window lighting the room instead.

Paige lifts her arms and you slip her training shirt off her head, it finding a new home on your floor and she’s left in just her sports bra and sweats. “On or off?” You ask pointing at her bra, not knowing if she’d feel more comfortable with it off. “Off please.” She mutters, lifting her arms again for you to remove the bra and you do, your hands grazing along her skin in the process and you feel how hot she is. “You have a temperature my love, we gotta get that down.” You tell her, helping her slip her arms into the t-shirt you provided.

You swap Paiges sweats for pyjama shorts and you think about the delicacy and intimacy of you undressing your girlfriend so she’s completely exposed just to dress her again in something more comfortable and you love that you have these simple, domestic moments with Paige. You have amazing sex too and that’s great but you’re grateful you can not only find pleasure in each other but comfort as well.

You gently untie Paiges signature braids after she complains of a headache and you run your fingers through her hair massaging her scalp as you go. She hmms in response to your soothing touch and you continue for a while longer hoping to release any tension the tight braids had caused.

Your sheets were freshly washed and smelled of comforting lavender and you opened them, guiding Paige to rest against your pillows. She sneezes a few times, her head bopping down as she does and you know she’s sick and not feeling good but you can’t help but find her mannerisms so cute.

“OK, I’m getting water, medicine and I picked up a little something especially for this situation. Any requests from the kitchen, my pretty patient?” You ask Paige stroking her face gently and her eyes flutter closed at your gesture, “Maybe some goldfish?” She asks looking up at you, eyes heavy with sickness and adoration for you, even when she was ill, Paige still looked at you with so much love, you were grateful you had some so special that looked after you when you needed it and that you could look after when she needed it. “Of course.” You press a kiss to her forehead and drag your blanket over and around her shoulders as you notice her shivering slightly.

You gather everything you need and take it back to Paige, her head is rested back and she looks as though she’s sleeping but she perks up at the sound of you entering the room again.

You provide Paige the pills you know will make her feel better the same way she did for you, holding a bottle of water to her lips for her the swallow the tablets.

“Before the Goldfish, drink this.” You say producing a small bottle filled with a ginger shot from your pocket and Paige immediately shakes her head, “No. Yuck. I’m not drinking that.” She refuses, clamping her lips shut.

“Oh come on P, it’ll help you.” You insist, unscrewing the cap.

“A hug would help me too.” She whispers, lifting up the duvet for you to join her in bed. “And I’ll give you all the hugs, all day and all night.” She smiles weakly, “…Once you drink this.” You say bringing the bottle to her lips and her small smile quickly drops.

“No. Not doing it.” She says voice hoarse and rough and you just know it hurts when she speaks.

“Paige, your voice sounds like rocks dragging on concrete. Please just take the ginger shot.” You plead, perching on the edge of the bed.

“I think you mean my voice sounds sexy.” She husks and you laugh at her attempt to divert the attention away from her refusal to drink the health shot in your hand.

“How about a compromise?” You offer and she raises her brows waiting for you continue. Deep down, you knew Paige was just a girl who liked girls, you especially, so you take her hand by her wrist and guide it under your shirt, placing it firmly against your left breast and Paiges eyes widen in shock. You offer her the shot once again and she takes it in one swift gulp, grimacing at the bitter taste. “I’ll take six more.” She grins, giving your tit a slight squeeze in her grasp.

“Alrighttt miss, enough of that.” You say removing her hand, “We’re trying to get that fever down, remember?”

Eventually you climb into bed next to Paige, changed back into pyjamas, studying at the library could wait, you had a sick girlfriend that needed some serious TLC and you were going to give it to her.

You ran a damp cloth over her forehead, praying for her fever to subside.

Paige snuggles into you as your turn on the TV starting the next episode of her favourite show, Greys Anatomy. Your hand falls to her back where you trace circles with your finger tips, “That feels really good. Don’t stop.” She mumbles into you, sniffling slightly. “I won’t baby. I’ll stay right here, like this.” You reassure her, “Get some rest, you need it.”

After some time, you feel Paiges breaths even out, she’d fallen asleep, head in your lap, arm rested on your legs and you keep your promise and continue tracing circles on her back. You’d do it all night if she asked, you’d do anything for the blonde girl that would do anything for you.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[muzansfangs]

Imagine Douma’s first real emotion is jealousy and/or anger (alongside some horniness), and you being the cause of it, meaning he will be letting it all out on you.

Jealousy.

Starring: Douma x f!reader; Akaza;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: nsfw, jealousy, lust, first time Douma actually experiences a human emotion, possessive behaviour, dom!Douma, sub!reader, rough sex, biting, fear play, unprotected sex, mention to bruises, vaginal sex, dirty talk;

Plot: He had always desired to feel something. From the dreadful emotions to the blissful ones. When his multicolored eyes landed on you back then, Douma knew you might have helped him to feel less of an empty shell. Surely, he did not expect to feel sick at the sight of his ‘best friend’ conversing with you.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“What did you do to me, huh?” Douma rasped out, hands pinning your twitching ones above your head, whilst his hips smacked against yours in a steady and brutal tempo. He demanded an answer, he wanted to hear an explanation from you, he yearned for coherent words to roll out of your tongue and not those high-pitched cries and moans filling the air as he occasionally hit your cervix.

You witch, you had clearly casted a spell on him. If it was not for your human nature, he would have probably blamed it on a demonic technique. He felt so sick.

If only he knew what your proximity, what his lust over your pretty face and body would have caused to him, he would have probably ignored you at the local festival the infamous night you met. He should have devoured you. After all, it was what demons did: they ate humans. Then again, he had not felt that urge, primal desire to consume you to the bone back then. Something had stopped him and, naturally, he took it as a manna from the Heaven.

Years of clinical apathy, centuries spent in observing people interacting and chattering in ways he could not comprehend, eager to mimic their emotions, to experience them too for real. He thought he had grasped the essence of them all, the feeling they caused. Why? Faking them should have been the equivalent of manifesting them.

It all turned out to be useless, in the end. He had always wanted to feel something, whatever it was that life had gifted him with. The salty tears streaming down his face, when he pretended to be heartbroken in front of his followers, had never actually tasted bitter and found himself hoping they did now. He had never felt the typical pang of sorrow in his chest, prelude to a meltdown, or the lump in his throat hard to swallow for the very first time before bursting into a desperate cry. He had always feigned his emotions, especially the dreadful ones people tried to escape. Still, he had tried to imagine what those sensetions would have felt like for real.

But, oh dear, did it feel horrendous now that he was affected by one of them.

You writhed underneath him, squirming, sweat beading your forehead as he thrusted into you with a cold brutality he had never showed before. You knew he could not be in love with you, his heart had never been blessed with the capacity of feeling that surge of positive energy and dizzying emotions all people did. Yet, you did love him and you had chosen to stay by his side. For that, Douma lavished you, he showered you in exepensive gifts, he gave you honors, he treated you with care.

The beast hovering over you now, though, was not your loving boyfriend. It was a pissed off Upper Moon, whose fangs were bared and claws were scraping your tender flesh. His cock, engorged and twitching, was bullying your gummy, delicate walls with ferocity to get answers from you. He was going insane.

“I did n-nothing!” you choked out, screwing your eyes shut as he scoffed and shook his head.

“Don’t lie to my face! You talked to him! You sang! You treated him the way you treat me! How dare you?” Douma seethed, a vein popping on the side of his head as he brought his mouth down to yours in a searing kiss. Your blood had run cold for a split second. Those pearly fangs, sharp enough to rip out your throat, had dangerously grazed your jaw and finally bit down onto your bottom lip. The metallic taste of blood on your tongue a warning to take matters in your hands.

You knew what had happened, what was going on with him right now. It took you by surprise, but he was going through the different stages of jealousy. Currently, taking it all out on you was the last one.

The root of his envy and anger was the way you, his companion, were beaming at his so-called best friend. You had heard so many stories about Akaza that you had been dying to know him. He was a kind demon, at least to women. Striking up a conversation with him came natural to you, therefore you had offered the Upper Rank Three to sing for him like you did to Douma.

A smile, a sweet and innocent smile of yours had been the final straw.

The sound of pottery smashing, your look of concern when Douma coldly demanded Akaza to leave, and the way he had easily sliced his arm off of his body at his refusal to leave you with him in his moment of instability, were all you could recall before he had you moaning out his name onto his bed. You were struggling to endure this pleasurable torture. You had lost the count of how many orgasms he had denied you. With a blurry vision, you arched your back to lock your legs behind the small of his back.

“J-Jealousy! You’re feeling something! This— Ah! This is jealousy, D-Douma!” you blurted out, only for him to still his thrusts and push further down onto the mattress.

Jealousy. Disgusting feeling, a lame one. Out of everything he could learn to experience, Douma had been sentenced to endure such a deplorable emotion.

He snorted, hand grasping your jaw as his tongue lapped at the small cut on your lower lip, still bleeding “Jealousy, huh? If that’s the case, you can fix it, right? Be a dear and stay away from any man in the Temple, at the village, down to the cities and at the Infinity Castle” he snarled, the glint of malice making his kaleidoscopic eyes even more mystical in the dim light provided by the candles on the nightstand.

His, permanently, caged and strangled by his consuming love. This was your fate, for you were his and no one else’s.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Oh, how dearly I had missed writing for my favorite upper moon. Thanks for this thirst, anon! I hope you enjoyed the meal!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

X O X O

TAGS: @doumadono @mrskokushibo because we started a cult with the upper moons✨