#he tried to help with my fear with the needles but I just ended up despising it all even more

[spideyhexx]

i had a normal anxiety with dentists until a dentist just shoved a needle in my mouth without letting me know. which they knew to tell me what they would do before they did it. during the car ride there next time i had a panic attack and ever since i've had a phobia of dentists

yeah :/ I’m so sorry you had that experience, a dentist or any doctor for that matter, should make you comfortable and aware of things! I’ve been to multiple dentists throughout my life and have a hard time with that sort of care because of my experiences so i completely get it!

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: You tend to Alastor's wounds after the fight with Adam. The weight of almost losing him nearly breaks you.

☒ Warnings: gn!reader, hurt / comfort, implied established relationship, descriptions of injuries and stitching them up, mentions of anxiety, the reader cries a bit, comforting!alastor, and also soft!alastor, one kiss, non-sexual undressing, soft touches

☒ Word Count: 1,010

All you could think of the moment the battle ended was Alastor.

The last you saw of him, he was going head-to-head with Adam. But witnessing Nifty stab the lowly man made you worry something terrible happened to Alastor.

The moment you had a second to breathe, you rushed toward the Radio Demon's tower. A trail of blood leading toward his sanctuary sent a wave of fear down your spine. Your steps quickened at the sight, and all the worst-case scenarios flooded your mind. 

When you swung the door open, the view of Alastor blanketed your body with a cold sweat in the weight of a moment. He was doubled over the control panel, ears pinned flat to his head as the crackle in his voice echoed through the space with each breath he took. 

"Alastor!" You cried out, rushing over to his side in an instant. The sound of you calling his name caused his head to whip around. You wasted no time assessing his injuries, scanning your anxious gaze over his frame. 

"Worry not, my dear," Alastor coughed, blood spilling down the corner of his mouth. Your eyebrows knit in concern as you began raiding his radio tower, frantic to uncover a first aid kit. "Of course, I'm going to worry- you're bleeding all over the place!" You exclaimed, letting out a breath of relief as you found the emergency medical kit. 

Hastily, you began pushing Alastor's torn overcoat past his shoulders. The injured man simply gazed down at you, a weary smile decorating his visage. "Darling, I can handle this myself," Alastor clamored through gritted teeth, stopping your hands with his own before you could start unbuttoning his dress shirt. 

You shot your head up to meet his gaze, frustration evident on your face. "No, you can't! You need to let others help you when you need it! Stop trying to handle all these battles on your own. Please, Al," Your voice softened toward the end of your sentence. You didn't want to shout at him while he was wounded so badly, but Alastor's stubbornness got under your skin. Especially now. 

Alastor closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a shaky breath before releasing his grasp around your hands. "Alright, my darling... I won't stand in your way any further," His voice was barely above a whisper as he presented you with an apologetic look. You offered him a weak smile in return before undoing the buttons on his blood-soaked shirt. Peeling it off his frame with great gentleness. 

Your eyes widened in fear as you finally saw just how gnarly the gash across his torso really was. Your hands shook ever so slightly as you began threading the needle you uncovered in the first aid kit. "Tell me if it hurts too much, and we'll take a break." You expressed softly, eyes meeting his crimson ones. Alastor only nodded at you as he gritted his teeth harsher than before, bracing for impact. 

Alastor's grip on the edge of his desk tightened, leaving deep claw marks in his wake. You tried to make the stitching process as painless as possible, but there was only so much you could do. "I'm almost done, my love. You're doing so well," Alastor endured the grueling treatment, letting out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding as you finished patching him up. 

You generously applied ointment before wrapping gauze all the way around his frame. Alastor let out a hiss as the bandage came in contact with his gash. "I know, my love... just hold on a little longer for me," You snuggly secured the gauze before bringing your hands down. You grasped his hands. Clutching his large palms comfortingly as you beamed up at him. 

"There, now you're as good as new." You quipped, massaging the pads of your thumbs into the back of his palms. Alastor grinned wearily, his crimson eyes holding much adoration for you. "Thank you, my darling... I reckon I should apologize for being so uncompromising before," A slight chuckle escaped his lips as Alastor squeezed your hands right back.

You let a laugh of your own fill the room as you leaned in closer. "Ah, don't be... I'm just glad you're okay," Before you could catch up, your head came flush against his shoulder. The adrenaline finally wore off, leaving your body shaky and weak. Alastor didn't miss a beat. He gripped your hips to stabilize you instantly. "My dear, are you alright?" His voice was laced with concern, radio static crackling out ever so slightly.  

Tears began brimming in your eyes before you could stop them, and a lump formed in your throat. One that you couldn't seem to swallow down. "Sorry, I just..." A hiccup shook your body as your hands came up to his chest, being careful not to graze his injury. "If you would have died... I couldn't bear it!" 

Alastor felt his heart ache at your sorrowful cries. Your solemn words only added fuel to the fire. One of his hands unhurriedly came up to the back of your head, cradling your neck as Alastor cooed at you. "Oh, my dear," He allowed you to sob into his shoulder for as long as you needed, only releasing his grasp around your head when he heard your cries fizzle out. 

You slowly pushed yourself back against Alastor's chest, sniffling softly as you looked up at him. Before you could process it, Alastor captured your lips with his. Pouring all of his love into the chaste kiss. Your heart fluttered as he rubbed soothing circles into your hips. Your worries seemed to melt away from his embrace. Alastor was your everything, and the fact that you nearly lost him today scared the fuck out of you. 

Alastor pulled back unhurriedly, still keeping his face close to yours. He nuzzled his nose against your own before he whispered, "I'm not going anywhere, my darling. You're stuck with me for all of eternity. I expect you haven't forgotten that already!"

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining the 141 looking for a medic because all of the ones they sign on keep dying or getting poached by other task forces. And you're a baby medic who is shadowing your higher rank and well esteemed teacher (who is actually the one on the 141's radar). But something goes horribly wrong...

You've done everything you possibly can but he's still drowning in his own blood.

He's tried walking you through everything through wheezing, wet breaths. He has a knowing look in his eye, this isn't working and it won't work. You're in the EVAC helicopter, but the time it'll take to get you back to base is too long.

"I-I'm sorry." You whimper, tears forming on your lashes. "I'm not a very good student."

Your mentor smiles sadly, his eyes glassy. He was always sweet to you when he was no nonsense with everyone else.

"You're doing great, kid." He huffs, blood leaking out the corner of his mouth. He winces and sputters up more but you're there. You try to fill up his vision and give him something to focus on. "People crash. Don't give up on 'em till it's over."

You cradle his head, memorize every wrinkle, scar, and patch on his kit. And then, it hits you.

He's right, its not over yet.

You rip through your medical supplies with shaking hands. It feels like it takes forever but it's merely seconds before you're sticking a needle from your vein into his. You watch the bag as it quickly fills with your blood before entering into him.

Your mentor chuckles and shakes his head weakly. This is nowhere near anything he taught you. But he knows it might just save his life since you're both the same blood type.

You go through multiple more needles releasing pressure on his lungs until he's even more stable than before. He finally has a shot and that's all that matters.

You're so close. Fifteen minutes out when he starts to crash again. You've exhausted everything. Your medical supplies are dwindling. You have no more blood to give. Your teacher just continues to smile at you. And he keeps smiling at you and he keeps smiling at you. You rub at his face, his eyes are far away. You feel for his pulse.

You scream.

It's not one of fear, but a deep, mournful cry. You turned your comms off forever ago but you know everyone could hear you, even through the wind. It carries your scream off and away as the heli's motors clip around you. You feel empty. He was supposed to teach you more. He was supposed to live.

You scream again and throw yourself over him. You sob and scream and grab at him, trying desperately to look for vitals. You know you won't find one but you're delirious. He's supposed to live! You did everything right!

Tears blur your vision but you notice someone out of the corner of your eye. It's one of the members of a different task force assigned to help your squad with this now terribly failed mission. He's their Captain, you think. He tries to reach down but you hiss at him. You don't care about rank. You don't care about the social ramifications. You scream to be heard over the wind.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

The man's eyes soften. You don't imagine what you look like. You probably look wild, feral, gnashing your teeth and growling. You don't care. He's YOUR teacher, he's YOUR responsibility. Quite frankly, you don't trust any of the other strangers watching you. You hiss at them too. Then you cry again.

You bury your face into your now dead mentor's chest and sob.

- - - - -

The look in your eye is like nothing he's ever seen before in a medic.

Price had watched you exhaust every possible avenue to save your superior's life. When all else failed you gave him your own blood. And when he finally succumbed to his injuries you threw yourself over him, not allowing anyone or anything to get close.

Even when they arrived on base, when your other superiors tired to swoop in, you stood your ground.

"I don't care! Even in death he's MY patient!" You yelled at your own Captain.

And surpisingly, they let you take care of him to the end. They even let you escort his body to the morgue. It's where Price finds you hours later.

You sit in a rusty old folding chair just outside the morgue doors. Your eyes are glazed over, far away, and still brimming with tears. He kneels in front of you to get on your level. He doesn't say anything, just waits for you to finally see him. You blink slowly and look up at him.

"I-I'm sorry..." You apologize. "I d-didn't mean t-"

"It's alright, Love." He hums and offers you a tight smile. "I understand."

He pats your knee in a fatherly way before standing up. His knees pop and he winces. You immediately stand up, your eyes searching him up and down.

"S' alright, I promise. Just a lil' stiff s' all." He soothes. "I need you to come with me."

He notices how your pretty lil' eyes widen. He shakes his head and offers a hand to help you out of the chair.

"You're not n' any trouble, sweetheart. I just want to talk with you."

He looks down at you with a knowing, sweet smile.

Your commitment is exactly what he's looking for.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Do you know that I love you? (do you know that you shouldn't?)

love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here

pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

warnings: jason's injured and there's blood but it's not too graphic, except that it describes giving stitches, sometimes people get mean when they get scared, biting like a misbehaved dog etc etc

a/n: there is a fatigue seeping into me that I fear is building a home inside my chest :) how are we all doing this evening do we like this are we excited for the dc event announcement on sunday

You hear another muffled curse from the other side of the bathroom door, Jason's voice tight with pain. The sound makes you press your lips together firmly, your jaw tense as you stand in the hallway of your shared home, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

"Jason -" you start again, but his voice cuts you off.

"No."

"Let me help you," you continue, an exasperated sort of fatigue in your voice. Somewhere in your kitchen, you know that the clock is ticking well past 4am. 

"You don't need to be here for this," Jason says stubbornly and you scowl at the closed door. You wonder, for just a moment, if he locked it - or if he simply trusts you enough to know that you won't go where you're not wanted.

"You can't put stitches in our back on your own," you say stubbornly, and a sigh is heard through the barrier between you as you thump your head back against the wall to stare at the dark ceiling. But then the door swings open slowly and Jason's face appears, haloed by the light pouring out of the bathroom.

"Help me, then," he says tightly, and you draw yourself up to a full stand, moving past him and into the small space. Jason sits on the edge of the bathtub and faces the wall while you rummage around the first aid kit, rolling his shoulders and wincing at the rushed, messy bandaging covering the slash across his back.

You don't say anything, of course - there's no need for an I told you so in a space like this, but you do click your tongue disapprovingly when you crouch behind him to pull back the bloody gauze.

"You don't need to be so stubborn about this, you know," you say softly as you begin to clean the damaged skin. There's no attack in your voice, no righteous demand that he become something that he's not.

It's just love… and the patience that comes with it. 

Jason sighs at your words, though, like he's being tried in court and found guilty. He shifts, his fists clenching as he hangs his head and stares down at the white porcelain of the bathtub and the bloody bandages that you've thrown in next to his feet, the red staining everything that it touches.

"I don't want you to have to see me like this," he says eventually, a tired sort of resignation in his voice. You huff out a breath.

"I've seen you dead, Jason," you point out flatly. "I'm not sure why you think this would be worse."

"Don't joke about it," he snaps before he can stop himself, something mean and angry flashing through him before regret begins to wash over him.

"Why do you think I'd joke about loving you?" You ask it quietly, pressing a needle to his skin as you begin to put him back together, as you smooth over wounds and blur out the scars that he's sure would bloom there without your help.

Jason sits quietly, lets his head hang as you work and listens to the slow rhythm of your breathing as you move your hands across his back, as you love him in the only way you know how.

"Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you," he admits, his voice low and wavering. That makes you pause, makes your hands freeze for just a moment before they continue, slower now than before. 

"I suppose that was going to happen eventually," you offer softly. "Neither of us are really who we used to be… I'm not sure we can, I don't know, fall into step with each other the way we did before…"

"Before I died?" Jason supplies. You tap him on the back of the head with your knuckle in a reprimanding sort of way - just like you used to do when you were kids.

"Before we grew up, I was going to say," you explain dryly, and Jason laughs a bit, a huffed-out breath that he can't really find in himself to stop. You roll your eyes rather fondly and a quiet settles over the two of you, nothing but your breath mixing with his and the faint rustling of your working hands filling the space as he settles. 

But then you finish Jason's stitches, tying off the thread and taping down a new, clean bandage before tapping him on the shoulder lightly to let him know that you're finished. He swings one leg up and over so that he's straddling the edge of the tub and watches as you stand, wincing and letting your knees pop.

"You should've said something," he chastises gently as you lift one of your own legs into the tub, straddling the porcelain to sit face-to-face with him and let your knees bump against his.

"I don't mind," you say easily, and a frown tugs at Jason's lips.

"See, that's what I mean," he murmurs, smoothing his hands across your thighs to rub gentle circles over your knees where he's sure the tiled floor had been digging into your skin. "Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you."

"What do you mean?" You ask softly. Jason looks away, staring at the blood-soaked bandages sitting in the tub. You follow his gaze, of course, just enough to see what he's staring at and then look back at him with your head cocked curiously to the side.

"Sometimes you act like you don't care at all," he says flatly, his hands tightening their grip on your knees.

"When I act like I care, you act like it's killing you," you point out gently, watching as Jason's lips turn down into a scowl as he watches his own blood drip towards the drain.

"Sometimes I think it is," he says dully. You reach to brush a few of his curls back, his hair unruly and mussed from the night as sweat sticks to the strands.

"Then what do you want me to do, baby?" you ask quietly, letting your fingernails scratch over his scalp rhythmically as he sighs and closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

"I want you to let me see you," he replies honestly. "I want you to let me here there for you."

"Not sure you should be saying that," you respond easily. "Something about living in a glass house and all that."

"What do you mean?"

"You locked yourself in the bathroom to bleed out alone so that I wouldn't see it," you point out. There's no accusation in your voice, no cold, hard edge or betrayal to be heard. But Jason's shoulders tense all the same as he opens his eyes and takes your hand in his to press kisses across your knuckles. "You don't need to protect me from yourself," you continue gently. 

"Neither do you," he retorts, the same kindness and love coming back to you in waves.  

"I'm just…" you begin, letting your eyes flick around the bathroom as you feel yourself suddenly under scrutiny. "I'm trying to be there for you."

"That's my job," Jason says firmly. "You gotta let me be there for you." You sigh at that, something long-suffering and loving as you look back at him and lift a brow. 

"When are you going to learn that I love you?" You ask softly, and Jason looks at you like you've pointed a gun to his chest.

"When are you going to learn that you shouldn't?"

"I don't think you get to make that decision for me, Jay," you offer with a shrug. "I think I've earned the right to decide my own life." He sighs at that, looking at you like he loves you too much and doesn't know what to do with it, before he reaches for you.

"C'mere, baby," he says it quietly, a whisper pressed against you as he wraps his arms around your waist and hauls you into him, letting your thighs rest overtop of his as you settle into his lap. "You know I love you, too, right?" he asks softly, his lips pressing kisses over your cheeks.

"I know, Jay," you respond soothingly, tangling your hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Maybe we'd both… maybe we'd learn a thing or two from showing it more, hm?" Jason laughs at that, burying his face into your neck as he sighs and rocks the two of you back and forth gently.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" he offers, his voice muffled as his lips press against your skin. You tap your knuckles to his head in another chastising manner, but you also smile as you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. 

"I wouldn't mind that," you say quietly, and when Jason lifts his head to look at you, there's no hint of joking in your face. You smooth a hand over his cheek and he lilts his head to place a delicate kiss on your palm while you watch him, your eyes big and loving in a way that makes him feel a bit naked. 

"Yea?" his voice wavers as he asks, his hesitation festering inside him, but you just smile in that gentle, loving way of yours and smooth over the crease between his brows with your thumb.

"Yea," you say easily. "You're not hard to love, Jay. It just takes a bit of practice for us to learn how to give that love."

"And you'll stay with me long enough for me to learn?" 

"Long enough for us to learn," you correct gently, leaning into him to kiss him softly. "And hopefully a whole lot longer than that." He laughs against you at that, chasing your lips as his arms wrap around your waist a bit tighter.

"Well," he says as he pulls away just enough to let his lips brush against yours. "I'm sure as fuck not letting go." You laugh at that, something loud and honest and a bit more carefree than either of you are used to.

"Good," you say easily. "We'll do it together, then."

[buckyalpine]

Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.

Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.

A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.

“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.

As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.

"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.

"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-

You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.

"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.

"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-

"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-

"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"

You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.

"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.

"You did it, you did amazing mama"

-

After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.

Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.

Eventually he can't help himself.

He has to ask you out.

And he does.

3 years and a wedding later

You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.

"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.

"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.

"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.

"Sleep tight little man"

"Night, daddy"

-

Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.

"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.

"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.

"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.

You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.�� He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[edenavari]

On the Matter of Mirrors

Eddie is still trying to convince Steve he and Nancy are made for each other. It comes up, like, everytime they hang out, which is all the time, because Steve couldn’t stay away if he wanted to. He doesn’t, but he also wishes Eddie would quit trying to set him up with someone else. 

‘Cause, like, here’s the thing. Steve likes girls. He also, he realized sometime after Robin came out to him, quite likes boys. He likes Eddie. Like… Really likes him. Practices pick-up lines in front of the mirror kind of like. Wears a little more black and tousles his hair just right to give himself a subversive edge he never used to have, just the right amount to trigger a subconscious response without appearing to be tweaking his fashion sense at all. Has mastered the art of wearing eyeliner without looking like he’s wearing it, and it took him a fucking while to work up the nerve to go out like that, not that anyone but Robin noticed. 

But Eddie just will not drop the Nancy case, no matter how many times Steve tries to stir the conversation away from her, and between his budding crush and the crushing fear that it’s never gonna be anything but one-sided, between the slightest of sore spots Steve still sports about the way things with Nancy ended in the first place and the bitter edge of never managing for something to start with Eddie after weeks of efforts, it’s beginning to grate, right? 

“So what’s the problem?” Eddie insists, bounding circles around Steve like an eager puppy, and something in Steve’s ribcage snaps. 

They’re in Steve’s room studying when it comes up once a-fucking-gain. Eddie is taking accelerated summer classes so he can finally graduate by September, and by some inexplicable fuckery of fate, despite Steve’s own dirt poor records, he’s turning out to be a decent tutor. Something about Eddie managing to focus in a way a classroom environment never allowed him to. Maybe because most teachers and over half the student body were openly hostile at worst and aggressively ignoring Eddie at best, all because of his last name or his tattoos or his loud brassy cheek.

All the same, Eddie does get distracted fairly easily, and an hour in, he’s bounced off the bed and started rattling reasons Nancy Wheeler is definitely Steve Harrington’s soulmate. Steve groans noncommittally, gets up to grab his water from the desk and takes a long swallow as Eddie keeps needling him. 

“You’re the problem, Eddie,” he all but snarls, when he really meant it to come out exasperated at worst.

He snarls, though, and Eddie stiffens, his eyes going cold and hurt and the corner of his mouth turned down in anger. 

“Right,” he says, and it sounds so casual Steve thinks he won’t make a big deal of his tone after all. Fool’s hope. “I’ll get out of your perfect hair, then,” Eddie spits out as he makes for the door, only Steve stands in his way, hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” he starts. 

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” Eddie interrupts, but he steps back, gesturing wildly as he speaks. “It’s not like we’re even friends, you just got saddled with me because of Dustin. We saved the world together? Big deal! My involvement was incidental, really, more of an inconvenience than any kind of help. Why would you want my opinion, of all people’s, right? Even by this point. Get out of my way, I’ll quit stepping on your toes. Go on!”

“I don’t want you to go, Eddie,” Steve tries again. 

“Just want me to shut up, is that it? Not really my strong suit, you might have noticed.”

Steve can’t help smiling. “I have noticed.”

It only seems to rile Eddie up even more, throwing his hands out and making to step around Steve again. “Man, what do you want from me?”

“Is this allowed?” he breathes out, extending the last word beyond its scope. 

Which puts him within reaching distance of Steve, who grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and presses him, careful not to jostle him too bad but firm enough to counter his manic strength, against the wall. He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a touch too close, lets himself imagine that he’s going to close the distance entirely, cocks his head and licks his lips and hangs there in a way he hopes spells it out for Eddie without inducing any kind of panic. 

Eddie, hands still up at shoulder height, lets out a little huff close to a whimper when his back hits the wall, bracing himself for a hit that would never come, and maybe some part of him knows this, because he doesn’t look scared or angry anymore, just kind of confused with a side of grief, and it doesn’t take two seconds for him to start to look intrigued, maybe even, if Steve allows himself a little optimism, interested. 

His lips part on a sharp inhale, and they’re close enough to smell each other’s skin, and Eddie’s eyes drop to Steve’s mouth, a little watery and out of focus, edging forward in a way that could just be a twitch, just a consequence of holding his breath the way he is, plausibly deniable, subconscious no doubt, only when Steve mirrors the movement, he does it again, gaze moving up and down from Steve’s eyes to his lips and back and back again without blinking, until twitch by twitch their noses graze and their mouths connect and Steve closes his eyes and concentrates on maintaining that seal over Eddie’s plush, pliable pout, because if he didn’t focus, he’d be way, way overeager for a first kiss. 

He moves back after several seconds with a shaky exhale, swallows as he finds Eddie’s eyes again. His blood is thrumming in his fingertips, somehow he feels both cold between his shoulder blades and warm down to his toes, and if Eddie looks at all put out he thinks he might never manage another mirror in his life. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure disbelief. 

Steve shrugs, not quite settled on the matter of mirrors. “I thought you made a point of breaking the rules?”

A glint starts to wake in Eddie’s eye that’s looking more delighted by the minute. 

“Just as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“We’re in the clear, then,” Steve whispers, leaning in, just a smidge. 

Both of Eddie’s hands sink into his hair as he pulls him into another, much steamier, kiss. Steve lets his fists fall from Eddie’s lapels and knot over his back instead, lets his mouth drop slightly open, an invitation Eddie wastes not a second to follow through on, teeth scraping and back arching like he wants to sink all the way into Steve, and by the time they’re parting, breathless, cheeks flushed, mouths stinging, Steve’s one hand is braced against the wall, holding himself up, knees too weak to do the job on their own. 

“I thought you could barely stand me,” Eddie heaves.

“I can’t,” Steve admits. “You drive me nuts. Just not how you thought.”

Eddie frowns, suddenly serious. 

“You should forget all about Nancy.”

Steve frowns too. “That so?”

“Hm-mm. She’s taken, man. And not all that. You need to move on.”

“Damn,” Steve sighs. “Am I being desperate?”

“Pathetic,” Eddie nods, barely a whisper against Steve’s lips, and they break into smiles in tandem. “Forget all about her,” Eddie repeats. 

“Who?” Is the last word Steve gets out. Then he’s busy enough he really does forget. 

When he fixes his hair in the bathroom mirror in the morning, he walks away with a wink.

Give us a kudos, if ye dare x

[reiding-writing]

familiarity [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer’s nightmare leaves him reeling with a panic attack, not helped by the unfamiliar environment of his hotel room. in his desperation he does the only think he can think of, call you.

WARNINGS: details of spencer’s kidnapping, needle mentions, mentions of bodily harm, detail of panic attacks

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.7k

masterlist!!

a/n: back on my angst grind after three straight fluff fics, enjoy :)

“No- Please- Please, I don’t-“ Spencer’s desperate pleas were halted as Tobias pulled up his sleeve to expose skin that hadn’t yet been pierced.

“Tell me it doesn’t help,” Spencer gave him a pleading look, although didn’t say anything as the needle was prepared, and he whimpered softly at the stinging pain in his arm, followed by a wave of calm.

Even though Spencer could no longer physically feel the pain he was experiencing, it didn’t stop tears from falling down his face, running hot against his skin as they left diluted red stains in their wake from mixing with the half-dried blood of his head injury.

His head fell backwards against the chair, eyelids fluttering as his body was overcome by the liquid running through his bloodstream, not at all aided by the sudden resurgence of Raphael, who only proved to make the situation worse as he berated Spencer for the one way contact he had with his team.

His mental beating ended with a physical one, a sharp smack against Spencer’s already bleeding head causing his chair to topple backwards and all of the air to be knocked out of his lungs.

He desperately gasped for oxygen to no avail, choking on his own saliva as his body began to uncontrollably shake.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Spencer shot upwards, his eyes craned open so far that he could already feel them drying up despite the tears still occupying their corners.

He blindly fumbled to turn on the lamp at his side through trembling hands and shaking breaths, and whilst he thought the light might help him come back to his bearings, the unfamiliar room that greeted him only served to make his panic worse.

He was on a case. He was in a hotel room. He was fine. Nothing was wrong. He was okay.

He was okay.

He was not okay.

His chest tightened with every breath, the amount of oxygen making its way into his bloodstream depleting with every desperate breath he tried to take and making him increasingly lightheaded.

If he had enough muscle control in his fingers he was sure that he’d be clawing at his throat in an attempt to get more air into his lungs.

He knew what was going to happen next, and with his eyes turning blurry from his tears he did the only thing he could think of to stop it from getting any worse.

“Spence..?” Your voice is hoarse from your sharp awakening at the hand of your ringtone, and you yawn into the receiver as you roll onto your back with your phone pressed to your ear. “What’s the matter..? It’s late…”

Spencer’s hand trembled as he held up the phone, his breathing shaky and uneven to the point where you could hear it on the other end of the line. “I-i’m sorry to wake you up I just… I need you.. please-”

“Spencer?” The tearful desperation in his tone knocks any sense of tiredness from your body, and you sit straight up in your hotel bed. “Are you okay?”

Spencer didn’t have the energy nor the composure to go into detail, so he just blurted out the main fear he had as the tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m scared-”

You’re scrambling out of your bed before he even answers the question, haphazardly pulling a t-shirt over your head and pressing your phone to your ear against your shoulder as you pull on a pair of sweats over your shorts. “What room are you in Spencer?”

Spencer’s eyes were almost shut tight in anticipation of a panic attack as his mouth opened slightly. “411…”

“I will literally be there in two seconds,” You fumble around your room to grab your room key and leave the room hastily, shutting the door harder than you probably should as you rush to lock it behind you. “Can you unlock your door for me?”

“Yeah… I can do that” Spencer got up carefully and shakily made his way to the door, not at all helped by the geometric pattern of the carpet that made his head spin, planting the palm of his hand flat on the floor to ceiling mirror to keep himself upright.

He eventually found the lock to his room door and managed to unlock it after a small struggle, his fingers not co-operating with what his brain told them to do.

You give the door a soft knock as you reach it, and Spencer hears the end dial of his phone as you hang up the call in favour of speaking through the door instead. “Hey, it’s me, i’m coming in okay?”

“Okay…” Spencer said quietly, pushing his hair out of his face as it started to fall in front of his eyes again and taking a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

“Hey…” You crack the door open as little as possible and slip into his room, shutting the door behind you with your foot as you reach up to pull his head into your shoulder. “You’re alright, I’ve got you…”

Spencer’s eyes immediately closed as he surrendered to your touch, letting out a shaky breath that tickled the skin of your neck.

“Sorry you had to wake up for all of this..” Spencer muttered softly, almost inaudible as it muffled against your t-shirt. “I didn’t know what else to do..”

“Shh…” You gently bring your hand up to run it gently through his hair, slowly detangling it with your fingers. “It’s okay, you made the right decision,”

You remain standing there for a few moments as you take in the state of the room in front of you.

The room was shrouded in cool white light from a lamp on one of the bedside tables, water dripping from its edge and falling into a puddle on the carpet to join a glass that Spencer had presumably knocked over during his scramble for his phone.

The window curtains were open, exposing the main street outside, although a little blurred through the glare from the lamp on the glass that left a reflection of the mess that was the hotel bed in its place, the duvet in a pile to one side and the decorative blanket lining its end in a heap on the floor.

Even if Spencer hadn’t have been trembling in your arms, the panic he’d experienced was entirely evident, leaving physical evidence of his anxiety across his hotel room.

You slowly trace your hands down his arms, stopping as you reach his hands to take them in your own and gently pull him towards his bed to sit down and alleviate the weight from his trembling legs. “You’re safe Spencer, I promise,”

You give Spencer’s hands a gentle squeeze as you take a seat next to him, sat half on the bed so that you can face him properly, and Spencer’s eyes open for a few seconds before he again leans his head against your shoulder, his nose buried against the curve of your neck.

“Sorry,” Spencer said quietly. “I-i don’t know why it’s so bad tonight. I just can’t stop it-”

“It’s okay Spencer, don’t apologise,” You wrap your arms around Spencer, one tracing lines up and down his back and the other scratching gently at his scalp. “We’re gonna work through this step by step okay?”

Spencer let out a small shaky sigh as he kept silent for a moment, trying to quell the shaking of his body. “O-okay” He nodded softly against your shoulder.

“Do you remember the grounding techniques I told you about?” It was a bit of a loaded question considering Spencer’s eidetic memory, but encouraging him to engage in answering simple yes or no questions would be a good start to slowly getting him to calm back down

“..Yeah,” Spencer took a slow deep breath as he moved his head away from your shoulder, blinking them open slowly as he tried not to get overwhelmed by the harsh lighting from the lamp. “It’s the 5,4,3,2,1 method...”

“That’s right, let’s go one at a time okay?” You give him a soft nod at his correct assessment.

“Can you tell me five things you can see right now?”

“The- ceiling…” Spencer said quietly, taking a deep breath before continuing. “…and the lamp.. and the dresser… and the window… and you..”

“Good,” You tuck a stray strand of hair behind Spencer’s ear, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “What about four things you can feel?”

“…the bed under me… the carpet… your hand running through my hair.” Spencer took a couple of deep breaths as his shaking slowly started to decrease, his head falling back into the crook of your neck. “And my own shirt on my skin.”

You give him a soft nod, joined by a small hum of affirmation to confirm that he was doing well. “Let’s do three things you can hear,”

Spencer just nodded before continuing, closing his eyes once more to focus on matching his breathing to yours. “The clock on the wall… my own breathing… and your heartbeat.”

“Good, that’s good,” You gently move your fingers through Spencer’s hair at his temple, brushing through it softly and gently massaging at the skin behind his ear. “Two things you can smell?”

“…the lavender scent you have on you..” He stays silent for a bit as he struggles to think of something else. “And.. the smell of the room itself… i guess.”

You cant help the small chuckle that leaves your mouth as he vaguely describes the smell of the hotel room, and whilst it’s not exactly perfect you let it pass. “Last one,”

“One thing you can taste?”

Spencer thought for a moment. “The taste of the saliva in my mouth.”

“Good job, that’s great,” By the time the grounding was complete, you were almost entirely supporting Spencer’s weight, his head pressed against your shoulder and his arms loosely wrapped around your waist as you held him close to your chest. Some parts of his mind were still a bit hazy but he knew he had calmed down a lot. “Can we stay like this for a bit..?”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want to Spence,” Spencer lets out a small sigh and keeps his head on your shoulder silently, listening to your heartbeat and mirroring your breathing in attempt to stabilise himself.

You remain holding Spencer for the next few minutes, the room completely silent aside from the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall.

“Can i ask you something..?” Spencer’s voice is quiet against your shoulder, and he shifts himself slightly to have your face in his line of sight.

“Of course you can,”

Spencer takes a deep breath in before speaking again. “…can you stay in here with me tonight?”

His question elicits a small sigh to leave your mouth, and you arbitrarily push the stubborn strands of hair that fall over his forehead back behind his ear again. “You’re sure you want me here?”

Spencer just nods. “Please? At least for a little bit..?” Spencer’s voice was back to being quiet and shaky, like he was still on the cusp of another panic attack if he wasn’t careful.

You didn’t want to unintentionally take advantage of Spencer’s vulnerability, but the look of pure unbridled desperation on his face as he asked you to stay made you want to let him curl up in your arms and hold him until you physically couldn’t any longer.

“I’ll stay for as long as you want me to stay…” You rub small circles into his back to stabilise him again, not wanting him to accidentally fall back into another panic attack after he’d just managed to push his way out of one.

“…can you hold me..?” Spencer asked quietly, still burying his head into your shoulder as he spoke. “Please?”

“Yeah… i can do that,” You shift further onto the bed as you encourage Spencer to lie down, pulling the bedsheets straight to drape them over the both of you as you lie down behind him, turning to your side and holding your arms open in his direction. “C’mere,”

Spencer moved closer so he was now fully laying down in your arms, his head buried into your neck and his arms squeezing your torso tightly.

You could still feel the anxiety in the tenseness of his shoulders and the way his eyes clamped shut, almost as if he was waiting for another panic attack to hit him suddenly.

“i got you… you’re alright…” You pull him flush against you, slipping your hand underneath his t-shirt to run your fingers against the bare skin of his back, ignoring the slight moisture collected on his skin from his body sweating as a result of his nightmare.

“I hate this… I hate that this keeps happening..” Spencer moved his hands up to grip your shirt lightly as he tried to calm himself further.

“I know Spence I know…” The pads of your fingers tracing small circles into the skin of his back served as a good calming technique as Spencer tried to solely focus on how the gentle sensations felt.

“Your brain is just trying to process all of the emotions in your mind, and the best way to do that is when you’re sleeping,”

Spencer looked up slightly from your shoulder and you could practically feel his anxiousness by how tightly his hands were clutching your shirt.

“…..i’m scared when i’m awake too….” he admitted quietly, his eyes wavering from yours as he spoke no matter how hard he tried to maintain eye contact with you.

“He can’t hurt you anymore Spence…” You sigh softly as his expression matches his words, traces of fear lingering in his features even as he calms down.

“…i’m not scared of him.. not completely..” Spencer tone continued to carry an undertone of fear even as he admitted that Tobias didn’t scare him anymore.

“What is it you’re scared of then Spence?” You tilt your head downwards to speak against the crown of his head, muttering the words softly.

“I’m still scared of… what if I….” Spencer’s words get stuck in his throat as he tries to speak, his breathing becoming uneven once more and threatening to send him spiralling again.

“..what if I fall back into my addiction.. I can’t let that happen again…”

Spencer’s voice was still shaky as he looked up at you, and you could feel him trembling in your arms. He was on the edge of another panic attack, but doing his best to hold it back and remain as calm as he could.

“Hey- slowly,” You take the side of his face in your hand, rubbing your thumb over his cheek and tilting it up towards you. “You have come so far Spencer, you’re going to be alright,”

Spencer’s eyes were threatening to spill tears once more, but he seemed to calm down a bit more at the comfort of the cool temperature of your hand against his face.

“You can’t promise that.. you can’t know..” Spencer resorted back to mirroring your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell with each breath you took and trying to steadily replicate it himself. “I just don’t want to lose myself again…”

“You won’t.” You shake your head softly at him, leaning your forehead against his.

Spencer took a few seconds to just breathe, focused on retaining a state of at least mild calmness before he tried to say anything else. “..can I ask you something..?”

“Yeah of course you can,” You give a soft nod against his forehead, cupping both of his cheeks in your hands.

Spencer took a couple more deep breaths before asking the question. “..if I relapse.. if I slip back down that hole.. can I come to you for help again..?”

“Of course you can…” You gently pull your forehead away from his to look at him properly, stroking your thumbs over Spencer’s cheeks in soothing lines. “But I will do my absolute best to ensure that that never happens,”

Spencer nodded as he looked up at you, still holding your hand tightly. You could tell that his anxiety wasn’t fully gone but he seemed to slowly be regaining his bearings again.

After a few more quiet minutes, Spencer let out a small yawn, looking up at you. “I… i’m tired…”

“You should try and get some sleep Spencer…” Spencer nodded softly, leaning his head further into the palm of your hand.

“…can you stay here with me while i sleep?” He muttered quietly, his eyes starting to get teary again as he feared the inevitability of you leaving. “I’m still scared…”

“Hey…” You redirect the movement of your hands from your thumbs tracing lines into his cheeks to your fingers scratching gently at the hair behind Spencer’s ears, leaning in to place a chaste kiss to the small wrinkles forming between his eyebrows from how hard he was furrowing them. “I’m not going anywhere okay?”

Spencer couldn’t help but blush a little bit as you kissed him softly on the forehead.

“…okay.” Spencer moved his head forward to bury it into your chest, taking slow and deep breaths as he slowly started to calm down. “Can you hold me… more tightly..?”

You slide your arms around Spencer and give him a soft squeeze at his question, holding him against you with a small amount of added pressure to act almost as a weighted blanket.

“…did you know that sharks cuddle with each other?” His voice is slightly muffled against the fabric of your t-shirt, and you can’t help the small chuckle that escapes you at the random piece of information he gives you.

“Oh do they now?”

Spencer nods softly, his grip on you loosening ever so slightly as he begins to become more drowsy. “They huddle in piles when they sleep, and take it in turns making sure no one gets lost from the group..”

A small yawn escapes Spencer’s mouth at the end of his sentence. “They’re very social animals..”

Spencer mutters out his explanation, his eyelids feeling heavy and his limbs relaxing against your body. “..thank you for being my shark..”

“No problem,” You give a soft chuckle against the crown of Spencer’s head, massaging the nape of his neck with your fingers.

Spencer smiled slightly at the gentle pressure of your fingers, letting out a small inaudible sigh at the feeling. “..can I ask another question..?” He his voice was laced with very apparent drowsiness, and he just barely lifted his face enough from your shoulder to be able to look at you.

“Just full of questions tonight aren’t you?” You let out another small laugh, tucking Spencer’s hair behind his ear as he looks up to get a better look at his sleep-filled features.

Spencer nodded a little bit as his eyes falling closed as your fingers ghost over his temple. “Yeah.. I guess.”

“Can I still come to you when I get scared about something..? Even if we’re not alone..?” He asked slightly quietly, still keeping his eyes shut. “Because you always make me feel calm.. just.. hearing your voice and being near you...”

“Of course you can Spencer…” You take the opportunity of your hand gently slotted against the side of his face to rub small circles against his temple with your thumb, smiling softly at the way his expression relaxes as he focuses on the feeling. “I’m glad i can be a form of support for you…”

“..You’re more than that….” If you listened hard enough, you could still hear the slight hoarseness in his throat from where he had been crying. “You’re everything.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment as he took a couple of deep breaths, still squeezing your hand tightly. “Please.. i don’t want to lose that.. not again...” He whispered softly, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You lean your nose against the top of his head, whispering into his hair and placing a chaste kiss to his crown as you give him another soft squeeze as if to remind him that you were still physically here.

Spencer smiled softly as he felt your lips against his head, his eyelashes fluttering slightly.

“I love you..” Spencer whispered softly, his voice even more sleepy this time and his breathing now getting slower and more regular.

Your heartrate picks up a little at Spencer’s drowsy declaration of his love, and your sure he can feel it from where his head lies half against your chest. “We’re going to talk about this in the morning okay? For now, just get some rest Spence…”

Spencer slowly nodded as he started to close his eyes again, his words still a bit hoarse as he spoke in a barely audible whisper. “..okay…”

Spencer held his arms around your torso tightly, and you could feel him start to nod off. “..night.. my shark..”

[polarspaz]

Hi! Big BIG fan of your Au’s, especially the Cairon one with my boi Tim.

I had a question: So we all know little Timmy was basically a stalker to the bats in the comics. Would he have still have done that in this AU? And do you think he ever ran into any of the nicer rogues? (We know what he does with scarecrow 💀)

Like, does Pamela show him different plants that have medicinal purposes?

Or Selina teaching him how to fight since he’s closer to her build than Batman’s?

(Tried to break it up so it wasn’t a wall of text 😅)

-In the Carrion AU, Tim started to stalk Batman and Robin right after he killed his parents. While he did spend most of his time studying toxicology and medicine, he also had more than enough free time to trail after the shadowy duo.

-Tim never encountered any super villains while he crept the streets of Gotham, however he would stumble into a few thugs occasionally. But each encounter would end the same, with Tim scampering away unharmed, while leaving his attacker waling in agony from a single needle.

-When Jason was killed *horrifically* by the Joker, Tim saw how much worse Bruce had gotten, and decided to help him by kidnapping Scarecrow. Learning the formula for the Fear toxin was also a sweet bonus, so in Tim eyes, he was getting a two for one special. He just hadn't expected Bruce to find him so quickly.

-Tim relationship with Poison Ivy was quite bad in the beginning. While Tim found Ivy's plants fascinating, Tim was an outright murderous monster in Ivy's eyes. Ivy valued plant life WAY more than human life, having no qualms about murdering someone over a wilted fern. So when she saw Tim causally rip her flowers apart and stuff their husks into his little bags, she FREAKED.

-WAY later on though they start to mutual respect each other. Tim tires to not kill the plants he collects from Ivy, and while he usually fails ((Tim has a black thumb)), Ivy appreciates the effort. They also both like to talk about toxicology and hold each other's opinions on such matters in high regards.

-As for Tim and Selina, well, Tim is kinda intimated by Selina, lol. She confuses the shit out of him and he doesn't know how to react to her. Tim a really good actor when he needs to be ((He freaks out Jason when he does it so well)) but with her, he's not sure how to act. So he avoids her. ((The same could be said for Wonder Woman, Tim just doesn't know how to handle motherly kindness))

[imaginesbymonika]

Red lights.

Plot: If guilt had a name it would be Dean Winchester.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x sister!Reader

Warnings: mention of violence, mention of Demon!Dean, needles, blood, fluff in the end but only a bit

Everything happened so fast. So very fast.

The red lightning, which emerges from the lamps above you turns the bunker into a place you're unable to recognize. This whole situation has been feeling like a never-ending nightmare for a while and now it was also looking like one. Dean has always reassured you, that while the world around you was filled with ghosts and demons he would always look out for you. And you never questioned him. However, right now, you were hiding from him as if he turned into one of those monsters he swore to protect you from. You look up you can notice it in Sam's eyes. You're not the only one terrified of your oldest brother.

"Smart, Sam. Looking the place down. Doors won't open. I get it." His deep voice is echoing through the empty and cold hallways. "But here's the thing. I don't wanna leave. Not till I find you two."

Your relationship with Dean has always been different from the one you have with Sam. While the younger brother actually feels like a brother to you, Dean has always meant more to you. After all, he practically raised you since you were a little child. However, at this moment, while his hammer was destroying the door, you tried your best to still see him in all of this. He may be a demon, but underneath all of that hatred your brother had to remain… right? But it becomes much more difficult with every second that passes. You take a deep breath.

"Y/N.", Dean suddenly says and Sam instantly pushes you behind his bigger body. "Oh, come on.", you can see how a fake pout emerges on his face:" I just want to talk to my sweet little baby girl." For a moment he lowers his weapon as he stares you down through the shattered wood:" Don't think, that I won't also kill you. I can still sense my love for you, however, it is not enough for me to save you. But if you help me kill Sammy, I might make it quick for you." There's a ringing in your ears. "Don't listen to him.", Sam whispers but his voice is muffled and feels unbelievably far away.

Dean has never ever threatened you. Even when you were much younger and he had earned a beating from John, because of something that you did on his watch… he never ever threatened you before. It was something that seemed impossible to you. But now it had happened and it filled you with an unknown emotion.

"Come on.", Sam speaks and clutches your hand, bringing you back into reality. You two rush through the red hallways and after a minute or two you stop. Sam takes a deep breath and when he turns around to face you, his eyes widen in fear. You don't even have time to properly react before he pushes you to the cold ground. And when you look up, you make eye contact with Dean. His hammer sticking to the wall. It was hurled with such an immense force that it makes your jaw drop.

"Oh man, looks like I missed.", he says softly:" Can I try again?" There is a sincerity in his voice that makes your skin crawl. You nearly throw up. Meanwhile, Sam's knife is close to his throat. So close, it's almost making him bleed.

"Do it!", the oldest brother angrily hisses, his spit dripping down his chin. But Sam's arm just drops after a few seconds. You shut your eyes, not knowing what is about to happen next before you unexpectedly hear Castiel's voice. "It's over!"

You sit on the floor next to the door, your back is leaning against one of the shelves while you observe how Sam pushes yet another needle into your oldest brother's forearm. A weird emptiness has been filling you up for a while now, and while you should be happy that Dean is back at the bunker… you can't help but feel drained. "Are you okay, Y/N?", Castiel asks, and when you eventually tear your eyes off Dean's unconscious body you only nod.

Sam sighs:" He almost killed her." Castiel's eyes widen in shock, as his head snaps towards him. "He did what?" You want to defend Dean, but before you can answer someone groans. Castiel notices how you quickly get up from your spot, and softly nudges you to stand behind him. His grip on his knife tightens to the point where his knuckles are white. Meanwhile, Sam was slowly opening up the bottle with the holy water.

Dean lifts his head and when you notice his black eyes you can't help but feel sick. You quickly turn around and throw up into the corner. Sam and Castiel exchange a quick but worried look. The blackness quickly fades and when his normal eyes scan the room he takes one final deep breath. "You look worried, fellas.", he jokes, but no one laughs. You turn around at the sound of his voice, before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Without waiting a second longer, you snatch the bottle out of Sam's hand and toss the liquid into Dean's face. A pleased sigh escapes your lips when you acknowledge that there is no smoke. "Welcome back, Dean!"

"How is he holding up?"

Sam, who is entering the room looks over at the angel. "Well, he is still a bit out of it, nevertheless, he is doing better." You look up from your book. "The whole thing really took a turn on him- he… he just feels really guilty." The last word leaves Castiels lips as a whisper as if he was hoping you wouldn't hear it. But you did.

A knock on the door catches Dean's attention and he shifts on his bed before sitting up straight:" Yeah?" He expected to see either his brother or Castiel, however when he makes eye contact with you his jaw clenches. "Hey.", you say and slowly walk into his room. You sit down on the edge of the bed. A soft but tired smile emerges on your lips and Dean mirrors it. "Hey."

"I just- I just wanted to check in with you.", you explain and your brother nods. A silence falls over the two of you and you clear your throat:" Remember- Remember when we were younger… you came back from a hunt and you were hurt and John was… god knows where. We didn't have anything in the fridge except for some eggs and cheese."

At that Dean laughs:" And you made me that god-awful omelet? Of course, how could I ever forget about that? My arm was broken and I had the worst stomach pains on top of that." Once again you both sit in silence before Dean runs a hand down his face:" I am so sorry, Y/N." The sound of his voice breaks your heart and you move closer to him:" It's okay, Dee." He just chuckles dry. You know that he won't ever believe you.

[oleander-nin]

Im not sure if you still take reqs so sorry if you dont but can you do yandere donnie with a reader thats really bad at taking care of themself? Like they’ll stay up until like 5am playing videogames and end up sleeping in so much they decide to skip breakfast and lunch then end up eating a snack instead of a real meal for dinner because its to much work

A/N, not important: Uhh, I think I may have done this wrong- I had an idea, but somehow this came out instead. If it's majorly not to your tastes, send the request again and I'll try again. Thank you sm to @lethelagoon for the title and for helping me with the fic! Also this is posted on the tenth and not the third because I posted smth on the first and decided I could just skip to this week. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: mention of feeding tube, descriptive, mentions of drugging, pills, needles, abuse, kidnapped reader, dark themes, yandere themes

Words: 1357

Summary: Donnie comes home and finds out you broke his rules. Again.

“Do we need to go over your schedule again?” Donnie’s smooth voice sounds from behind me. I look towards him, shrinking down in fear. I set the console SHELLDON swore I was allowed to use down, racking my brain to try and find an excuse to get out of this. It had taken me three months to convince him I was fine being left alone, three months to convince him I wouldn’t break the schedule he created for me. Yet here I was, caught with the console on and his(or ours, as he liked to claim) bed unmade, the clock shining the traitorous numbers brightly. It was three in the morning, and Donnie had just returned from a mission, catching me in the act. I gulp. This was not going to go well.

“Well?” He asks, crossing his arms and tapping his foot. A scowl was on his face, signaling his distaste to the world. I chew on my cheek, opening my mouth and closing it over and over, trying to think of something to say. I didn’t want to be drugged again. I wouldn’t let him drug me again.

“I couldn’t sleep.” I say. It was a half-truth, which is better than a full lie. He can’t prove I wasn’t having trouble sleeping. Hopefully he won’t realize I never tried.

Donnie scoffs, a scowl set on his face. “Then you ask SHELLDON for sleep medicine. That is not an excuse and you know it. Gosh, you’re so- UGH!”

I cower back, my hands starting to shake as he paces around the room, his arms flailing as he continues to rant. I was going to be punished again, I was sure of it. Images of the isolation room and chains flashed through my mind, the slick taste of pills burning my throat. I couldn’t go through that again. I never wanted that to happen again.

Noticing my shaking, Donnie rolls his eyes and crosses the room in quick succession. He scoops me into his arms, holding me close while he continues to grumble under his breath. His arms were tense, the muscles more defined due to his anger. I couldn’t help the wave of panic coursing through my veins, my mouth going dry. 

I brace myself for the sharp pinch of a needle, but it never comes. I glance at his face, his dark eyes boring into mine. He wasn’t pleased, that was certain, but I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t freaking out. Last time I did something like this, he stripped the room of anything I could mess with and kept me locked up for a month. I still remember the pills he brought in, every night at seven. I shudder at the thought, the feeling of my body shutting down and pulling me into an unwanted sleep. 

He continues to stare at me, scanning my face slowly. He sighs in irritation, adjusting me in his arms before carrying me further into the room and setting me on the bed. He sits on the edge, his eyebrows furrowed as he takes his gear off slowly, letting each glove and padding fall to the floor. His steady hands were shaking in anger, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. My chest is tight in fear, knowing what was to come. The only wonder I had was why he was taking so long. I watch his face, trying to look past his eyes and learn what he was thinking. His silence was never good, a painful indicator of how ruthless he could be. Silence was a warning with Donnie, never a blessing.

“You didn’t listen.” He says, his voice tight. He’s not looking at me, his eyes trained on the floor. His hands squeeze the blanket of his bed, his green knuckles going white from the force. My blood runs cold and I desperately try to think of a way to fix this. He looks back over at me, his eyes narrowed and furious. “Why? Do you think I’m wrong? Do you not see the way I love you and want you to improve?”

I stay silent, unable to form a response. I didn’t know how to tell him the way he loved me was wrong in every way possible. I didn’t know how to tell him I still wanted, no needed, my escape from reality. 

His eyes wash over me again, my body feeling heavier with each look he gave me. It was like every time he scanned my body, another layer of fear and shame was set on my shoulders. The room was getting smaller, my lungs struggling to take in air. My left hand crosses my chest and sits on my shoulder, my right digging painfully into my thigh. I couldn’t do this. I wanted to go home. I hate him, I hate him so much. I can’t do this, I can’t be near him. All he does is hurt, and take, and I can’t leave. I was going to die here, stuck under the sick obsession of a mutant turtle.

I feel his hand on my back and I try not to cry, panic and fear growing until I feel as if I would pop. I couldn’t live like this, not any longer. I look up, seeing the way his face had tensed. I could see his lips moving, but couldn’t hear the words. I feel my throat ache from the held back tears, my entire body thrumming in sync with my heart. It was too fast. His room was too dark.

“Breathe.”

I suck in a sharp breath at the order, my body conditioned to do as he says without question. His hand goes under my chin, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. He makes me look into his eyes, the same eyes that were unbothered as he locked me away for weeks. The same eyes that stared angrily as he shoved a feeding tube down my throat when I forgot to eat. A sob bubbles from my chest as I try to pull back, survival instinct kicking in. His grip on my chin grows tighter, his other arm looping around my back and holding me in place. He places his forehead against mine, his lips moving once more. I could feel the words around me, the vibrations in the air, but I couldn't hear them. I could understand what he was saying, but I didn’t know what he said.

I continue to cry involuntarily, the hand holding my chin shifting to cup my cheek so he can wipe the tears as they fall. It didn’t help, his thumb wasn’t fast enough to wash them all away. I sit like that for nearly twenty minutes, the world around me crashing down and landing on my chest. My vision swirls with each sob while Donnie continues to hold me and whisper useless, silent words.

My vision swims one last time before the room starts to come back into focus, a harsh ringing in my ears. Donnie’s face is inches from mine, his drawn eyebrows furrowed. I stare at them through my sniffles. I never noticed he didn’t take off his mask. I try to turn my head to look at the room, but his grip on my face is strong.

“Are you done?”

I blink at him, his thumb roughly swiping my cheek as a stray tear falls. I forgot how his voice sounded for a moment. I take a deep breath, nodding. I didn’t have any other way to tell him, and I doubted I would fall into another fit. His hands fall from my face and I lean my neck back, staring at the ceiling. I felt numb, like my tears washed away every emotion my body once held. I couldn’t tell if I felt free, or even more suffocated. It was surreal, having my body be able to go through such stress before falling back as if nothing had happened.

Donnie’s hands trail down me, as if he was afraid I’d fall apart if he let go. They loop around my waist, pulling me firmly into his lap before he shifts on the bed and falls backwards, keeping me on his chest. I don’t fight it this time, letting him press a kiss to the crown of my head while he slowly rubs my back.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen, love.” His voice is quiet, one hand leaving my back to take his mask off while the other holds me tight. I let my head fall, my cheek pressed uncomfortably against the hard of his plastron. I let my eyes close, too tired to fight him any longer. I feel his chest vibrate as a small chuckle can be heard from him. “There you go. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up so we can discuss your new schedule. This will never happen again.”

I feel my stomach churn at his words, but I do nothing more than hum in agreement. I couldn’t fight anymore, my energy zapped. I just hoped I could sleep in tomorrow. I would delay a talk with him forever if I could. I take another breath and sleep comes for me, dragging me down into the darkness of my mind.

[leighsartworks216]

On The Count Of Three

Harvey x FTM!Farmer

I've been thinking about this idea for days, but I've only just been able to write it sort of like how I want it. I'm not 100% happy with the ending but trying to expand it out made it worse so I chose the less worse option (in my mind). Slightly inspired by my fear of needles and my third-degree yearns of wanting Harvey to take care of me

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

Word Count: 1,002

Masterlist

AO3

Harvey washed his hands in the bathroom sink. He wasn’t even thinking about it, so second nature to nearly everything he did at work. Instead, he thought mostly about what he needed to grab from the medicine cabinet.

A bandaid, disinfectant, a fresh needle, and the bottle of testosterone. He repeated them in his head like a mantra as he dried his hands off and began grabbing each item in turn. With everything secured in his arms, he leaves the bathroom behind and heads into the bedroom. 

The farmer fidgeted anxiously as they sat on the edge of the bed, watching him intensely as he set everything aside and ripped open the disinfecting wipe.

Harvey couldn’t help but feel honored to be trusted with this. Yes, he was a doctor, but it was nearly a year after their arrival in Pelican Town that they told him about their plans for medically transitioning. They’d admitted to him later that they were afraid of the people in this small town rejecting them or worse. They were so alone in Zuzu City for so long, they’d hate to feel that way again here.

This had become a sort of ritual after that. When the prescription first came in, they’d held it in their hands, staring down at it as they sat on the exam table, like it was an alien baby they were holding. He asked if they needed help the first time, to know what to do. But it quickly became abundantly clear when he tried handing the prepped needle off to them that they couldn’t do it on their own.

As he knelt down on the rug by the bed, he looked up at them. They were looking away now, staring hard at the wall. Their hands shook in their lap, fingers tapping uneven patterns against their thighs. The cold shock of the disinfectant startled them, but they just closed their eyes and tapped another rapid pattern against their skin. He set the used wipe aside and removed the guard off the needle, drawing the proper amount of the hormone into the reservoir before setting the bottle aside.

Each sound made them more visibly anxious. He could hear them swallow thickly, hear the slight tremor in their breaths. If he was any closer, he’d hear the rapid beating of their heart against their ribcage.

He took one of their hands in his, and kissed the slightly sweaty palm with deep fondness. He thought this was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen them do. Nevermind going down into the mines, every single week they faced their fear, trusting in him to get them through it. And every single week, he did, and every week after they were ready to close their eyes, grit their teeth, and get through it again.

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got you. Take some deep breaths now, alright?”

The first inhale was shaky. The exhale was squeezed out like somebody trying to get air out of a bag before they closed it. He waited patiently as they repeated the doctor’s orders a few more times, each subsequent one becoming smoother and easier. He hummed his approval, encouraging them to keep going.

He kissed their palm again reassuringly before setting their hand aside with a comforting squeeze. When he let go, their next exhale was choppy and nervous. There was nothing for it; the sooner he got this over with, the sooner they’d actually be able to calm down.

“Okay, ready?”

They nodded, eyes shut impossibly tight as they prepared for the sting.

“On the count of three. One… two… three.”

He slid the needle into the appropriate depth, drew some blood into the needle, and pressed down on the plunger to inject the dose. Their hands clenched into tight fists, clutching at nothing or the blanket underneath them. They remained that way for a moment after he removed the needle and clicked the guard back in place and set it safely aside. He peeled open the bandaid, removed the two pieces protecting the sticky parts, and expertly planted it over the injection site.

“All done! How are you feeling?” He took both their hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles to smooth out their fists. They sighed deeply as they finally opened their eyes to look down at him, blinking spots from their vision.

“Exhausted,” they admitted. Harvey was no stranger to how much energy being scared ripped out of a person. He kissed the inside of their wrist. “Thank you for helping me with this. I know it’s kind of stupid.”

He squeezed their hands. “Hey, it’s not stupid. I think being scared of needles is a very justified fear.”

They huffed. “I know, it’s just… We’ve been doing this every week for how long now? I shouldn’t be so scared, but even just thinking about it…” They shuddered. “Which is dumb because it just happened, and it barely hurt at all, so why am I still so freaked out by it?”

He stood up from the ground, letting their hands go to brush some hair from their face, cupping their cheek sweetly. “You remember our first date?”

A bubbly laugh erupted from them. They didn’t expect this to be brought up again after so long. “Yeah, I remember.”

He smiled. “I was terrified of going up in that hot air balloon. But I still did, because…” He chuckles bashfully. “Well, because you were so brave, I felt like I could do it anyway, if you were there. But I’m still terrified of heights!”

“So, you’d go up in another balloon if I was there?”

“In a heartbeat. I’ll always be scared, but if you’re there, I can be a little brave. Or at least try to be.”

They grinned, leaning into his hand. “I love you.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to their lips, mustache tickling their upper lip in an oh so familiar and pleasant way. “And I love you.”

[anonymousdisco]

How’d I get Isikia’d into Yandere Obey Me Chapter Ten-Unexpected Opportunity Part Three

(Y/N)’s POV:

It flippen hurt all over my body, but the pain was worth it. I meant what I said when I said I was willing to break my own bones to get what I want. At the end of the day the only thing that mattered was the plan. I couldn’t see glitch since I was busy pretending to be passed out but I used my thoughts to communicate. “What did they discuss when they left?”

“Exactly what you predicted. Although there is a new development that goes awry from your plans. Your other brothers are on their way.” Glitch explained to me.

“What?! There not supposed to know yet! The plan was to hide my injuries even further to increase the sucker punch of guilt they’d feel later!” I freaked out to Glitch mentally.

“I know. Will you move up the timeline?”

“Yes. I don’t have any other choice. It’ll take some adjustment and I’ll have to lie here pretending for a while then that I’m passed out. Bummer.” I sighed mentally preparing myself for a long haul. This was gonna suck. I can’t stand staying still.

It was not even ten minutes later when the door banged open and in came a flood of worried brothers. As I thought, they weren’t cruel, just traumatized by the loss of their other sister.

“Yo nurse! Explain this! Why is she just lying there looking half dead!” Mammons frantically whispered as loudly as he could without waking me from my supposed pass out. Truly a tusndere until the person he cared about is hurt.

“Please be quite while the patient rests. She is not well enough now to receive visitors. You may direct your questions to your Brother Lord Lucifer whom has been updated on the situation.” The nurse was about to usher them out when an idea struck me. Maybe I could shorten this pretend period.

I whimpered quietly, twitching in pain. I made sure to still seem passed out as one small little tear escaped my eyes. I couldn’t tell who did it but I felt a gentle almost scared hand brush against my cheek before holding my hand tightly.

It wasn’t till he spoke that I realized who it was given my eyes had to remain closed. “It’s okay (Y/N)…. Your big brothers are here now. We haven’t been the best but we’re ready to make that up to you. If anyone touches you again I’ll choke them to death.” What is it with Belphegor and murder via choking?

I made myself whimper in pain again despite it making me feel pathetic. I heard footstep approaching me before a nurse yelped. “Please unhand me. I need to give the patient something for pain that will make her rest easier as she recovers.”

“Next time ask before approaching our sister so carelessly.” Could Beelzebub really sound so… stern and cold? He wasn’t like that in the game. This made me feel a little uneasy. I felt a needle poke my skin and tried not to flinch from fear. Not long after sleep overtook me for real this time.

Satan POV:

I felt like I was burning. Like my skin itself was on fire. My vision was completely red. I had to be locked in my room by my brothers given what a rampage I had been on. It wasn’t until an hour ago I had been let out. 

Three days. She had been sleeping for three days already. We’ve been following Barbatos’s directions on how to infuse her with magic but it hasn’t helped her at all yet. 

It didn’t matter how many times I went under the castle to Barbatos’s torture room to obliterate that filth that hurt her. The rage still buzzed through my veins. The worst part was the anger was mostly direct at me. I had no excuse for ignoring her. I hadn’t lost Lilith. I hadn’t had to watch my siblings fall to what for all they knew could have been certain death. I don’t even know why I did it.

This is all my fault. Even Lucifer hadn’t messed up as much as I did. A realization that just fueled my rage to another level. Shoot they’ll probably have to lock me up again till I’m calmer.

Asmodeus POV:

She looked like death when we barged into her patient room in the castle. She hadn’t improved since. It’s been three days. I did her hair in the picktails she likes. I didn’t realize she liked such cute things till now. We could have bonded over such things but I was a fool.

I thought I was too beautiful for misfortune to befall me, but I was wrong. This hurt. Seeing her pain hurt. She was constantly sedated for her comfort in healing, but sometimes she’d flinch in her sleep from pain anyways.

What are we going to do? How are we going to fix this? We did all those horrible neglectful things! She’d been only three thousand when we fell. Only three thousand…

Beelzebub POV:

I couldn't eat. Belphie kept trying to make me but I just couldn’t. The idea of eating after all I was responsible for made me nauseated. I didn’t dissect to fill the perpetual hunger I had after hurting my little sibling so much.

It wasn’t just my misery I felt. I could feel Belphie’s as well. He wouldn’t sleep no matter how comfortable I tried to help him feel. Not only was I a failure as a big brother, but also as a twin…

Belphie’s POV:

He wouldn’t eat, and I couldn’t sleep. We took a kind and caring individual, our own little sister, and then just neglected her. She shouldn’t have even fallen with us in the first place! This was all Lucifer’s fault! Sure we all shared some of the blame, but it was Lucifer’s idea to rebel. And it was his idea to reluctantly accept another sibling despite planning an uprising. He could’ve refused! That way she wouldn’t be lying there in a medically induced coma so her magic wouldn’t kill her.

I was worried about Beel. I hadn’t felt such self loathing from him since Lilith died… what was I going to do? All I knew was those bastards were gonna pay in blood for what they did.

Leviathan POV:

I sat by her side a lot these past few days that she's been unconscious. The nurses said she can’t hear us and that’s probably a good thing. I doubt she’d want to hear a yukky otaku crying next to her.

I don’t know what to do. I know I’m one of the oldest, but I’ve never had anything like this before. None of us had ever been hurt this bad since the fall. Back then all we could do was pile up in one of the castle’s guest rooms in pain as we got used to the changes in our bodies. Oh Diavolo! She went through that alone didn’t she! Darn it! How much do we suck brothers?!

What have we done…?!

Mammon POV:

I walked past (Y/N)’s set up in Diavolo’s castle while she’s healing when I heard sobbing. I peaked in and there was Levi crying his eyes out. I approached him and reached out to hold him.

We sat there together for a while listening to the beeps and noises of (Y/N)’s medical magic devices. “I know that this is… hard.” I hesitated as I tried to figure out how to comfort him. I wasn’t as good as Lucifer at comforting our younger brothers. But I do remember him stretching his wings out to help hide us a comfort when we were younger. So I did just that after changing to my demon form. I hid Levi and let him cry all he needed to.

“Just how horrible are we?” His tone of voice hurt to hear. I brushed his head with my hands.

“Based on what Lucifer and Diavolo showed us, it's pretty horrible.” Before he could cry again I continued speaking. “But unlike most, we’re getting a second chance.”

He nodded in realization. “Your right for once Mammon.”

“Hey, respect your older brother! What do you mean for once?!” I demanded glaring.

Levi simply laughed at last and went to leave. “I should get some rest. It's late at night by now.”

I simply grumbled as he left. After a bit I moved by (Y/N) and held her hand. “It’s gonna be fine I promise. Lucifer always makes everything okay.”

Lucifer POV:

I drummed my fingers against my desk. I was doing my work in my office in the castle, but it was difficult to focuse at the moment. If I’d been a little bit later to save her… I sighed looking at the damage I did to the desk with my nails in my rage. This simply wouldn’t do. I couldn’t focus like this.

I know Lord Diavolo was fine with me taking some time off to take care of my family, but what was I even supposed to do? All this burden was becoming hard to shoulders as the oldest. Not that I’d say that out loud though.

“Knock, knock.” Lord Diavolo said leaning on my office door.

“Hello, Lord Diavolo. Is there something you need?” I ask straightening my posture.

“No. Is there something you need, Lucifer?” He gave my desk a pointed look when I started to shake my head no.

“Yes.” I reluctantly gritted out. “I am in need of… a friend at the moment.”

“Say less.” Diavolo grabbed an armchair and moved it next to me. “So what are we doing, Lucifer?”

“Working on the schedule for the plan you mention (Y/N) helped craft a proposal for. I don’t want her work to go to waste just cause she’s hurt.”

If Diavolo noticed the glassy look in my eyes he ignored it carefully as he remained steadfast at my side. It was times like these that I was grateful for our friendship. It lessened the burden I carried. Although despite his care this time I still felt a knowing empty feeling inside. I barely know her, yet I miss my little sister’s smile already. At least those brothers of mine will handle the scum while I handle this.

Diavolo POV:

Lucifer wasn’t like himself. Usually he carried himself like a rock steadfast against the other elements. Right now he was akin to glass in a way. There wasn’t anything I could do other than provide the best care for his sister, and remain at his side through this trying time. 

“I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic when she wakes up. By the time she does the plan should be in action. The human realm accepted yesterday, and we already have the celestial realm’s acceptance as well. She was rather convincing in her words to the celestial realm.” I look over the documents with Lucifer as I speak. “Those scum will be dead before she awakes. We’re letting Satan and Barbatos end them tonight if you want to get any last hits in.”

“Just make it hurt. I have too much work to do to stoop to such an unnecessary level of disheveledness.” Lucifer scowled.

“I’ll let Barbatos know you’ll be stopping by before midnight.” I smiled a bit as his scowl deepened. “After so long as your friend I know better than to think you won’t land the last blow yourself. Especially when it comes to protecting your family, Lucifer.”

He simply chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Shall I open some demonous for while we work? I was given a new vintage last month by another Nobel.” 

“That sounds great.” I grabbed some glasses from inside a cabinet. “You know Lucifer we should discuss something regarding your sister. A special way to protect her for life, and ensure she doesn’t leave the nest too far. Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow night?”

Barbatos POV:

I straightened up the blanket (Y/N) was sleeping under. The poor child felt so cold to the touch. I’d have to talk to the maids and scold them for not taking better care of her.

Cold rage dwindled in my veins for every moment those lesser beings of scum were alive. Soon that would be rectified. And tomorrow a whole new development for all the realms would happen. Something truly shocking. Something (Y/N) helped happen. If it weren’t so unlikely I’d think she was a genius. She’d make a fine leader someday, a queen worth serving.

I was about to turn around and handle the fireplace when I heard her mumble in her sleep. I was by her side in an instant, smoothing hair soothingly. I felt shocked and happy when she actually opened her eyes.

I smiled and bowed to her. “Good morning, My Lady.”

Lucifer:

Affection: 65%

“She's in readable thorough when planning something. This research and proposal couldn’t have been easy. When she wakes up I’ll show her the fruits of her labor.”

~Relation: Determined and Tired Big Brother

~Danger Level-Orange (Listen to me you don’t want to enter Red level. Don’t let it get past 89%. Then again you never flippen listen to me.)

Mammon:

Affection: 57%

“I should have noticed that she was being bullied when I treated her ankle and she cried into my shoulder. I really am stupid.”

~Relation: Greedy Overprotective Brother

~Danger Level-Yellow (Do you even read my messages to you??? Just asking since you never seem to listen. I can’t even do much to help you since my boss has me monitored.)

Leviathan:

Affection: 56% (wow that’s a feat. Getting injured really does do wonders for gaining affection. You're almost scary how smart you are in manipulating people.)

“I know I’m worthless, but I didn’t think all of us would be trash as brothers. We have to make up for this.”

~Relation: Regret filled Big Brother

Asmodeus:

Affection: 57% (Dang keep this up and he’ll love you more than he loves himself. Then again I shouldn’t tempt you. Forget I said that..)

“What on earth have we done? We’re terrible even for demons. You’d think we had never even been angels in the first place.”

~Relation: Depressed Big Brother (Prepare so much skin care for him later. Poor guy is gonna need it given all the stress.)

~Danger Level-Yellow (Yeah I’ve described there’s no way you actually are taking my advice to heart.)

Satan:

Affection: 59% (Stop waving red flags in front of bulls. Leave this one alone.)

“I couldn’t wait for tonight. I might end up sharing with Lucifer of all people, but in order to kill those scum it would be worth it.”

~Relation: Vengeful Big Brother

~Danger Level-Yellow (Is it even okay to use the same scale for this one? But we don’t even have any other scales… just be careful. Something tells me this one wouldn’t mind murder to keep you. And I really don’t want the overtime that would cause me.)

Belphegore:

Affection: 60%

“I don’t know what to do, but if I do know that I want to murder of those scum tonight with the others. But first I need to feed Beel something..”

~Relation: Sweet Dream Guaranteed for Life Bog Brother

~Danger Level-Yellow (What is it with you and poking bears…?)

Beelzebub:

Affection: 60%

“Maybe if inuse a frying pan I can knock Belphie out to sleep? But I don’t want to hurt him. I know I’ll offer to carry him over to (Y/N) and he can sleep next to her! Maybe he’ll sleep that way knowing that she’s safe.”

~Relation: Scary Dog Privileges for Life part two

~Danger Level-Yellow 

Diavolo:

Affection: 65% (Yet again, I feel the need to ask why you poke bears…)

“I look forward to my discussion I have planned with Diavolo. After all, it's best to get permission in such matters. Although no isn’t an answer of course.”

~Relation: Mr. What’s your head size for a crown just casually asking for a friend…?

~Danger Level-Orange (I’m not mad, just disappointed af this point. This is gonna be so much overtime. I can tell that already.)

Barbatos:

Affection: 70% (Just… how?!)

“She's awake at last. How lucky that she’s awake just in time for tomorrow.”

~Relation: Planning a wedding for you and his not his son but still his son Diavolo

~Danger Level-Yellow (Deep breaths and do not engage.)

[oneshotnewbie]

Hi! I would love to request something! if your requests are closed don’t worry, feel free to ignore this :)

I’d love to request a 911 one shot with Maddie Buckley x fem!reader, they could either be together or just feel something for one another but are still not a thing. Basically I just watched 3x13 and I cried the entire time because I love her and she has been through so much. So I was thinking about a one shot in which Maddie has a really bad day (it can be related to her past with Doug or something else that’s up to you) but she’s been on the verge of breaking down the entire day so she goes to the reader’s house for comfort and she just treats her gently and hugs her and makes sure she feels safe with her. I just love her so much I need to give her a hug. Also, sorry for my english, it’s not my first language. have a good day 🫶🏻

Authors note: Enjoy reading. I tried to fulfill your request as best as I could and I hope you like it ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The lights of the dispatch center stung Maddie Buckley's eyes like tiny needles today. Every time she turned her head, the harsh white of the neon tubes seemed to glow brighter, like a painful flash that burned itself almost aggressively into her consciousness. She felt a dull throbbing building behind her forehead and forced herself to ignore it. Another day, she told herself. Another day at work, like always. But even as she took her place at the console and entered her login information into the flickering monitor, she knew that today would not be like that.

She sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by the familiar faces of her colleagues, clinging to their screens like lifelines in a stormy sea. The hum of the monitors, the click of the keyboards, the deep hum of the air conditioning - normally these sounds were soothing. Routine, a constant presence in a world of chaos. But today they sounded like a menacing cacophony, piercing her mind.

She took a deep breath, her hands shaking as she put on the headset. "Another day," she whispered, knowing it was a lie. It was one of those days when memories forced their way into her mind like an uninvited guest, like a noose that kept tightening

Doug.

His name was like a cold shiver running down her spine. She felt the fear rising in her stomach, the familiar tingling she had felt so often over the years. The scars on her body might have healed, but the ones inside her were deep, and today they seemed to be opening up again. She remembered his anger, the nights when she heard his footsteps echoing through the house, his soft whisper cutting into her ear like a knife. "You can't escape, Maddie. No matter how far you run."

She bit her lip until she tasted blood and forced herself to push the thought away. He wasn't here. He couldn't hurt her anymore. She was safe, she was free - at least she should be. But the voices in her head, the faint memories of his screams and the coldness in his eyes, always found their way back. Sometimes in her sleep, sometimes in quiet moments. But today - today was different. Today the shadows were closer.

Her fingertips danced over the keys as the first emergency line lit up. "911, how can I help?" her voice sounded clear, professional. Automatic. She had trained herself so well in the role that even the tremors of her soul didn't break through the facade. A man was screaming on the other end of the line. His car had crashed into a lamppost, his daughter in the back seat, motionless. Maddie responded as she always did - calm, precise, with instructions that gave the panicked voice support. "Stay calm, sir. Can you tell me if she's breathing?"

Seconds ticked by as she waited for a response, the clicks and beeps of the other consoles around her like a pulsing roar in her ears. Finally, the answer came, leaving a knot in her stomach every time. "No, she... she's not moving!"

Maddie set the emergency call chain in motion, relaying the address to the emergency services and holding the connection as the father grew more and more desperate. "She'll be fine," she heard herself say, even though she knew she should never promise something like that. But the words just came. She felt like she was suffocating while simultaneously maintaining the facade of the cool, composed professional. Minutes that felt like hours passed until finally another dispatcher confirmed that the paramedics had arrived. Only then did she let go of the line and close her eyes. But instead of relief, something darker spread - a wave of exhaustion and an overwhelming urge to cry that she suppressed with all her might.

She opened her eyes and forced herself to focus on the screens again. The flickering light blinded her, and the voices of her colleagues around her suddenly sounded far too loud. It was a sound that reminded her of the nights when Doug had screamed at her while she desperately tried to make herself small, invisible, to escape the pain. Her hands shook more and she had to wrap them tightly around the edge of the desk to keep control. Each breath felt like it was coming through thick fog and she tried to focus on it, as she had learned in therapy. But instead of finding clarity, the memories continued to rise like dark tides that pulled her underwater.

She felt like she was going to throw up. The walls of the room seemed to be closing in, the air getting thinner. As she tried to distract herself, the next call came in and Maddie put the headphones back on. "911, what's your emergency?"

Another accident. A man had fallen from a ladder and was lying unconscious on the ground. Maddie heard the sobbing voice of the wife, who could barely breathe in panic as she tried to resuscitate her husband. She forced herself to remain calm and guided the woman. Her words sounded like a computer program, carefully chosen, and for a moment she managed to maintain the facade of professionalism. But when the emergency call ended and the line was cleared, she felt the walls of the room closing in on her. She was about to collapse, and she knew it.

But she continued working, mechanically, her mind caught in a whirlpool of memory and fear. Until lunchtime.

Maddie stood in the kitchen, poking holes in her coffee cup. Her hands were shaking so much that she almost dropped the cup. As she tried to raise the hot mug to her lips, she felt her pulse racing through her veins. The warmth of the coffee did little to calm her, and the words swirling in her head drowned out the noises around her.

She couldn't stop thinking about Doug, his threatening words, his fists. He wasn't here, she kept telling herself. But it felt like he was standing right behind her, like she could feel his hand on her back.

"You can't escape, Maddie. No matter how far you run." Doug's voice came to the forefront of her mind again, cold and cutting. It was just a memory, just an echo from another time. But it felt so real, she could feel the heat of his hand on her wrist, the strength he had once held her with. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep focusing on her breathing. "Inhale... one, two, three. Exhale... one, two, three."

When she opened her eyes, she stared at her reflection in the break room window. There she was - the same woman who had had the courage to run away, who had made a new start. But today she felt like the broken woman from back then, trapped in an endless nightmare that wouldn't let her go.

Suddenly there was a loud bang next to her. The coffee machine had overheated and almost exploded with steam when someone pulled the plug. Maddie jumped violently and dropped her cup, which shattered on the floor with a loud bang. The hot coffee splashed over her hands and burned like fire. "Are you OK, Maddie?" asked Josh, her colleague and one of the few people who knew why she had come to Los Angeles in the first place. Maddie forced a smile and nodded, even though tears burned in her eyes. "Yes, everything is fine."

But nothing was fine. Not in the slightest. She could feel the walls she had built around her fear and her memories crumbling. Every phone call, every siren, every frantic movement today seemed to pull her deeper into an abyss from which there was no escape.

Back at her console, she looked at the clock. Four hours left until the end of her shift. Four hours of keeping up the facade, of saving all those lives while feeling like hers was on fire. The next call came in. A house fire, children still in the building. Maddie swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. "I'm with you," she said, even though she felt like she was losing control at any moment.

It was like walking a tightrope - a balancing act between professionalism and inner chaos. But as she saw the clock count down another minute, she knew one thing: She could hold on.

But for how much longer?

ᕚ---ᕘ

Maddie felt the chill of the night air on her skin as she left the parking lot of the dispatch center. The path to her car blurred before her eyes as fatigue crept into her limbs. The day had drained her mentally, pushed her to her limits and beyond. Her steps were heavy, and with every meter she walked, the silence grew around her. The darkness felt like a burden today, an oppressive presence that wanted to swallow her up. Her nerves were frayed.

But when she reached your front door, the familiar facade of the house seemed like a lighthouse in a raging storm and she paused for a moment. The warm glow of the light that fell through the windows - it was her refuge. Here she could breathe. Here she could just be herself. Without the fear, without the facade that she had to maintain so often. Just like today. She felt broken, torn between the relief of being here and the fear that she might be too much, too fragile for you today.

The darkness of the night embraced her with a coldness that crept deep into her bones. She hesitated before putting the key in the lock, as if she had to find the strength to take the last step. Goosebumps ran through her body and she had to take a deep breath to remind herself that she was safe here - with you.

As soon as she opened the door, it was as if you had sensed her arrival. You were already standing in the hallway, your face etched with concern and warmth. The dim light coming from the living room enveloped her in a soft glow, and Maddie felt a rush of relief that almost overwhelmed her.

Maddie held her breath as their eyes met. "Hey," she said quietly, her voice shaky, barely above a whisper. The tears that had been burning behind her eyes all day now burst forth uncontrollably. Her whole body shook as she finally let go.

Your eyes widened, and without another word you closed the distance between you. Your arms wrapped gently around her shoulders, pulling her gently but firmly into a warm, tight embrace. The heat of your body immediately flowed into Maddie's icy limbs, and she felt the knot in her chest loosen a little. She clung to you as if you were the only anchor keeping her on the surface and buried her face in the hollow between your neck and shoulder, breathing in your favorite perfume - a mix of roses and vanilla that immediately calmed her.

Your warmth was like a protective shield that seemed to ward off the cold and darkness that had enveloped Maddie all day. "It's okay," you whispered, your hands sliding soothingly down her back, slow and loving, like waves gently lapping at the shore. "I've got you. I'm here," you held her tighter, placing a hand in Maddie's hair and gently running your fingers through the strands. Every movement was a promise: you are safe with me.

Your voice was soft and comforting, and Maddie felt her body slowly relax under the soothing touches. It was as if you were releasing each layer of her tension, one by one, with each gentle movement of your fingertips.

Maddie felt the tears running hot down her cheeks, and her whole body trembled as she clung to you tighter, as if that would protect her from the shadows of her memories. "It was such a terrible day," she gasped, her voice a strangled and trembling whisper. "I... I can't do this anymore."

Your embrace tightened, protective, as if you wanted to shield her from all the evil in the world as you rocked her gently back and forth. You gently pressed your lips to her forehead, letting them rest there for a long moment as you continued to whisper soothingly. "You don't have to go through this alone, Maddie. I'm holding you tight. You don't have to explain anything if you don't want to," you pulled her deeper into your arms, letting her feel the security she so desperately needed. "I'm not letting you go, okay? Not unless you want to."

You slowly led Maddie into the living room, not letting go of her for a moment. The touch remained constant, a gentle, unwavering promise that made her feel like she could finally breathe again. When you reached the couch, you sat down and gently pulled her onto your lap, wrapped her in a blanket and rocked her gently back and forth again as if she was the most precious thing you could hold in your arms.

"Shhh, let it all out, love," you whispered, gently wiping the tears from Maddie's cheeks. Your thumbs glided tenderly over her face, catching every tear. Maddie could see the warmth in your eyes, the infinite understanding that you saw through the pain. "You are safe here. Let go of the darkness of the past, there is only love for you here." your voice had a soft, soothing sound that wrapped protectively around her soul.

"I'm just so sick of it," Maddie whispered, feeling her voice break again. She sobbed, her hands clutching your shirt tightly. You continued to stroke her back gently, pulling her hands into your own and gently kissing each finger bone as if to soothe her. "Every time I think it's getting better, it all catches up with me again."

You felt her trying to suppress the feelings that were building up inside her. But you continued to hold her tightly, but gently, as if you wanted to show her that she wasn't alone.

You looked at Maddie with an intensity that touched her to the core. "I know, Maddie," you said, your eyes shining in the soft tone of the light as you looked deep into hers. "And I wish I could take all the pain for you. But what I can do is be here. Today, tomorrow - as long as you need me. I'll catch you as often as you need."

Your fingers gently stroked her cheeks, tracing the lines of her face as if they wanted to wipe away every trace of sorrow. You pulled her closer to you, kissed her cheek and gently brushed your lips over her ear. "You're strong, you know that? The fact that you've even come this far shows how much strength you have."

Maddie shook her head. "I feel anything but strong."

"But you are and it's okay not to feel that right now," you insisted and your hands slowly ran over her arms, your touch light as a gentle summer breeze. You felt the tremors that still ran through her body. "Let me help you," you said softly, taking a light breath, "by just being here. Today you don't have to do anything but lean on me."

Your fingertips traced her neck and shoulder before you leaned forward and pressed a soft and insistent kiss to her lips. "I want you to know that you can come to my apartment and to me whenever you need to. No matter how broken you feel, no matter how dark it gets inside you," your lips left a trace of warmth on hers again before you continued. "I am your refuge. Always."

In the silence that followed, Maddie felt lighter for the first time that day. She fell against you, completely sinking into your embrace, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your chest and the familiarity of your closeness. She could feel the rhythm of your breathing, calm and even, and it was as if that rhythm was slowly pulling her along, stabilizing her own breathing.

"Thank you," she finally whispered, as her tears stopped and only the soft pounding of her heart remained, matching your heartbeat. You smiled and laid your head against hers. "I'll always be here for you, Maddie. Because you mean everything to me." You pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, your touch so soft, as if you wanted to drive away her sorrow.

"Let's just stay here," you finally whispered after a short pause. "We're not doing anything else. Just sitting here and being together until you feel better." You pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you and wrapped her in it more tightly. "I'll take care of you."

Maddie nodded, letting the calm and the feeling of security seep into her as she let herself fall, enveloping herself in the love and warmth. She knew that the demons in her head wouldn't go away so easily, that the memories of Doug and the burden of today wouldn't disappear with a single evening.

But here, in the arms of the person she loved, she could let go. The world around her could sink into darkness, but she knew she was safe here.

And that was enough.

[taifenggg]

can i request some headcanons for barbs, mams and sol with a transmasc reader? specifically when the reader asks if they can give them their t-shots?

Content Warning(s): mentions of needles

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Barbatos, Mammon, Solomon

Authors Notes: i tried my best with this, hope you like it nonnie! get that boy juice POG

Barbatos [⌛🖤]

I like to think that Barbs has cold hands but they're cold in a way thats like pleasantly cool to the touch. His hands have a way of feeling soothing in the sense that it can calm any nervousness or feelings of being jittery, especially if you have a fear of needles.

He helps you be seated and ensures that you're comfortable before he does anything. He doesn't want to cause any feelings of discomfort in you, especially because you've gone so far as to trust him with this process.

As you hand him the vial with the T in it, he takes the needle and inserts it in, and flips the vial over with ease. His movements are swift and concise as he goes through the motions almost as if he's done it a million times, even if it's the first time he's handling it.

He's so gentle as he asks you where you want him to insert the needle with the T in it. When you tell him where you want it, he gently pinches the area that you chose and tells you to take deep breaths if you need to. He's not going to insert the needle without you giving him the go-ahead to proceed.

He's super quick about giving you your t-shot, and it's almost as if he didn't do anything as he puts a band-aid on top of where he injected you with it.

He'll hold your hand if the T burns! He's there to be there for you, especially when you're getting your t-shots.

Mammon [💰💛]

Poor baby is so terrified that he's gonna accidentally hurt you or poke the wrong thing and mess things up. It takes a lot of reassurance from your end to let him know that it's okay and that there's a reason why you're handing him the vial and syringe.

His hands are super shaky and he fumbles a little trying to insert the needle into the vial. You just have to keep reassuring him that what he's doing is right. He confused the two needles that you give him and he accidentally puts on the injection needle on first and struggles to pull out the T because of how thick it is. It takes some help from your end, and switching the needles for him to successfully pull out the amount of T needed for the t-shot.

His hands are warm as he uses an alcohol wipe to clean off your chosen area and it gives you a little reassurance.

As he administers the t-shot, he keeps you distracted by showing you all of the different band-aids that he has, with all sorts of different designs and allows you to choose the designs you want. When he puts the band-aid on, he'll press a kiss to the top of it as gently as he can and looks at you all lovesick.

If you're feeling sore or hurting anywhere after getting your t-shot, he'll cuddle with you and give you as many kisses as you want. He's so, so gentle with you and he handles you almost like if he were to jostle you too much you'll break in your hands. But he knows that you're so strong and brave for going through this and he's there to support you all the way.

Solomon [🪄🤍]

Solomon tries to keep things light as he administers your t-shot. He somehow manages to make you laugh even when you might be scared out of your mind. He somehow has this way of always making you smile.

Like Barbs, he's quick and efficient in getting the T into the syringe and he's really quick about administering it to you. His hands are super soothing and he'll rub the back of your hand after he finishes and puts a band-aid on top of where he injected you.

He'll help ease any pain you might feel, whether this might be pain or soreness, or even to help with the burning sensation of the T in your system.

His voice is also super soothing and nice to listen to as he pulls you close to him, telling you he's so proud of you and how you handled it.

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[sparrowrye]

Demi Demo || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 19

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 19: magic or not

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was left alone.

No amount of screaming or silence got anyone's attention. The pain contorted my body, my veins pulsing like needles, and spine spasming. I slammed the back of my back against the wall to get the headband off but it did nothing. There was nothing vital on that side to make it break or fall off. It only made my head hurt more.

Tears streamed down my cheeks until I had no energy left, slumping to one side against my arm. My body twitched and convulsed, but I had no energy left to do anything about it. My vision darkened as my lungs lacked precious oxygen.

Something stirred inside me. It felt like a thread being unwrapped. It was magic related, I could tell, but I didn't know what exactly was happening to me. I worried what would happen next but there was nothing to do except wait.

The feeling happened again. It was in the back of my mind, as if it wasn't actually part of me. I wondered if it was supposed to be freeing but it didn't quite have that effect. It tickled the inside of my mind and body, nothing else.

I thought back to Alastor. I might end up killing us both. Why was I always failing? I had been successful my entire life up until I met him. I had defeated all my opponents yet now I barely managed to kill a single powerful Demon. It took so much effort just to kill Striker and he wasn't even a true Overlord.

I thought to when I first tasted his blood in the kitchen. I could almost feel his hands in my hair again, gently tugging on it to get me to stop. I remembered dancing with him in the living room. He had held true to his promise and hadn't made fun of me. He had finally revealed parts of himself and his past.

I remembered when he kissed me. I remembered how warm I had felt. His lips had been oddly soft and his earthy scent made me feel like I was supposed to be there, supposed to be next to him.

Guilt gnawed at me. He had probably been honest. He was probably telling me the truth when we were talking after the fact. Had he actually fallen in love with me? When had that happened?

I remembered his hand on my shoulder as we argued with the Vees. I had felt confident with him there. Even when Vox taunted him, I still felt somewhat confident. The two of us. Together. If people feared me as much as they feared him, I would never find myself in this kind of situation again. People would never come near us or the haven.

Yet here I was, trapped and helpless. All from my own doing. And now I would lose Reagan because of it.

As much as I hated needing him, I wished Alastor was here to help.

As if hearing my plea, he melted out of my shadow and came to stand in front of me. I felt his cold claws lift my face as the headband broke into pieces. It clattered to the floor and my magic gradually came back. Alcine finally came out of my normal shadow.

"Blood," I murmured. An instant later his black blood touched my lips. I lazily ran my tongue along the cut on his palm and tried to bite down, but failed. My physical energy was still gone. My jaw was weak from clenching it so tight for so long, making it next to impossible to press my teeth further into the wound.

He attempted to make it deeper, the blood falling faster, but even my tongue and lips couldn't move very fast. My arms suddenly dropped from the chains and I let out a cry of pain. I fell back against the wall, foot claws sliding out from underneath, still shackled to the floor.

My head lolled to the side and if it wasn't for his hand I would've fallen over on my side. I tried calling on the shadow souls for energy but it was as slow as my physical movements. Just breathing hurt.

"My apologies dear." His other hand lifted my chin as his presence went straight through my shields and filled my entire mind with him. Green filled my vision as his hot magic seeped into my veins. His magic blended with mine, twisting and melding it into something else.

I didn't realize until I felt his blood soothing my aching throat that he was kissing me. His own blood pressed through his teeth and straight into my mouth. My body lurched forward as the combination of all kinds of magic took hold of me. My body buzzed with our shared energy as a magenta color spun around us.

He broke the kiss and I snapped the chains off my feet. I pushed off the wall with newfound energy. Anger coursed through me as Blackwater opened the door, his shadow stretching across the floor to sit at my feet.

Alastor's shadow suddenly disappeared and half my energy went with it. What just happened? I leaned on Alastor for support as he bristled at the new threat.

"Nice to finally meet you, Alastor." He closed the door behind him but didn't come any closer. Something was wrong. My magic was gone as quickly as it had been gifted back. I could feel Alastor's magic just out of reach, too.

"Blackwater, I presume." Alastor spoke as if nothing had happened, as if his magic wasn't just striped from his fingers. His glaring eyes paired perfectly with his smile.

"You'd be correct. Like my new invention?" He raised his hands to the ceiling. "Why be restricted to just a headband when I can turn it into a whole room? Now, we're just two equal men."

"I'm afraid magic isn't what puts you on the same level as someone," Alastor answered. "You have yet to prove yourself as my equal, and I'll have you know, no one has gotten there."

"Not even your precious soulmate?" He nodded his head to me, hands back in his pockets.

Alastor's grip on my shoulder tightened. "You have my attention, Blackwater. So what would you like to do with it?"

The man let out a chuckle. "Keep you out of my way." He threw his hand out of his pocket and sent a blaze of fire at us. We both pushed the other away as the fire split us, the flames nearly reaching the ceiling. Alastor used his cane to stand up and face Blackwater.

I ran at the man first but he casted wind to throw me back against the wall. A small crack popped in back as I slid to the floor. How was he using magic but ours was gone? How was he even using magic at all? He wore no metal backpack.

Alastor's form was entirely black through the flames, smile wicked and wide open as Blackwater casted again. I stayed on all fours and ran along the edges of the room. It caught Blackwater's attention long enough for Alastor to move. The man threw me head first into the wall before Alastor managed to impale the back of his shoulder with his claws.

Blackwater cried out and casted water over Alastor's head. He wrenched his claws out of Blackwater's body and tried to bat the water away. It stayed wrapped around his head, preventing him from breathing.

World spinning, I pushed off the wall and threw my body into his legs. He fell backwards over me and slammed his head into the floor. I closed my eyes to keep myself from getting sick, grabbed at his coat, and buried my claws in his leg.

He screamed and casted fire at my face. Alastor just barely managed to pull me back by my collar. The heat grazed my face as I fell back on top of him. I shook my head, world orienting itself right, and watched Blackwater struggle to his one good foot.

I got back on all fours and zig zagged. I jumped over the casts of fire and went his wind, using its momentum to move faster along the edge of the room. Alastor grabbed his cane before moving towards Blackwater. His main concern was obviously Alastor as he ignored me to cast at him.

I jumped for his feet again, sliding across the floor and knocking him down a second time. I stood up against the door, barely avoiding the wave of fire he casted up. He rolled onto his feet, hands up again.

Alastor pointed his cane at Blackwater but did nothing. They stared at each other, both breathing heavily from the fight. I looked to the door that was partially melting away. I took one step back and threw my body into the lower half.

It folded against my weight and I slipped out the hole. My magic immediately came back to me like fresh air. I quickly casted an illusion on Blackwater to allow Alastor time to snake out of the room.

Something cold wrapped around my throat and hoisted me to my feet. Alastor froze in place as he eyed the person restraining me.

"Don't come any closer!" Finn yelled in my ear. He took several steps back then held a knife right over my heart. "It'll end you both. Don't test me!"

I noticed Alastor's shadow on his wrist before he did. The shadow pulled his hand away from my heart and threw him over the railing. His yell was cut short when he landed on something that splintered apart.

Alastor raised his hands and the sound of large metal screeching echoed through the warehouse. I could feel exactly what he was doing with his magic. The earth opened its mouth and was slowly swallowing the entire building. He punctured gas pipes and lit them aflame, casting everything in a huge, hot orange fire.

"Reagan. Reagan!" I looked around the warehouse. Where did he take her? Where was he? We both turned to see the room empty save for puddles of blood.

Then I heard Reagan. I heard her yelling my name and pounding on a door. I followed the sound, avoiding the collapsing metal beams and blowtorched gas lines. My entire body was sweating and muscles aching.

I found the door she was hitting on. I bent the metal door handle and yanked it open. She immediately wrapped her arms around me, nearly sending us over the railing like Finn. I enclosed her in my own arms and accepted Alastor's hand.

He took us through the shadows far away from the warehouse. Reagan refused to let go of me even once we touched the ground. Alastor looked through the trees and bent the building further into the chasm he had created, the earth successfully swallowing it whole.

Then all was silent.

Alastor kept his gaze on where the building had been. Reagan kept her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I kept my eyes on Alastor's back and my hand on her shoulder.

"Alastor," I breathed. His ear twitched and he turned his head just slightly to look at me over his shoulder. "Thank you."

He glanced at the now empty clearing. "A thank you is in order for you, as well." He finally turned to face us, eyes briefly looking at Reagan's crying form. "I will send you two back. I must stay here a while longer."

I nodded, understanding perfectly why he needed to do that. He reached over to push a collection of hair out of my face, knuckles gently grazing my cheek. A moment later, we were back in the center of the Haven.

****

Blackwater pushed everything he had into the latch. It groaned open, weeds snapping and dirt crumbling into the manhole. He put a knee up on the surface and leaned into his shoulder to open the latch the rest of the way. He fell forward, cheek hitting the soft grass.

He laid like that for a while, pain radiating through his chest and shoulders. His team of six were all nursing their own injuries back to health.

"You alright, sir?" Finn knelt beside him. He accepted the help to sit up, groaning as he did. "What do we do now?" He helped Blackwater shed his bloodied coat. The sacks of blood taped on the inside were empty now, one of them with claw sized holes. Finn carefully took the tubes out of the back of Blackwater's arms and tossed the mess to the side.

"We recover and try again." Blackwater held a hand over his heart despite the pain being in the back of his shoulder. How close had Alastor been to impaling his heart from behind?

"I need a scout," Finn ordered, looking to see who was the least injured. One of his arms was completely immobile and he was holding himself up at a funny angle, probably from the fall.

Blackwater wasn't one for accepting help, let alone working as a team rather than as a command. Yet he was grateful to have Finn with him. The man had joined him when he was just a teenager and has never come back from a job empty handed or unsuccessful in some way.

Finn ordered the scout to run to the nearest village to get contact. The nearest Blackwater asset would send a team with magic to come get them. They just had to last until then.

It was well into the afternoon by the time their team arrived. He had lost two men in the meantime. The healer fixed Blackwater first before moving to the others who were still alive.

He stood up and snatched a phone from the nearest person, tossing it into Finn's lap so he wouldn't fumble it like he did with Python's blood.

"Get the damn doctor on the phone," he ordered, turning to look at the injured group. "Tell him his timeframe just got shorter."

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Author's Note:

Alakazam!

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