#it didn't hurt this much when it was cold

[angelltheninth]

Cursed Tea Party

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-con, love potion, aphrodisiac, orgasm control, yandere behavior, rough sex, love confession, overstimulation, being cockdrunk

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: I don't remember when I wrote this or why but I did. And here it is for you all. A bit more dark than usual.

There was something wrong with you. You could tell ever since you left the tea party. Actually before then. It was the reason you left, you couldn't stand being there anymore, with your head spinning, body getting so hot you had to take off your uniform jacket and loosen up your bowtie to make breathing easier. It didn't help. Maybe a cold shower would do, if not, maybe one of the toys you had hidden away in your closet.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? I could escort you back if you're sick." Riddle was the first one to notice how bad you were looking. It was his party so naturally he wanted to keep an eye on all the attendees.

"No, no!" The moment his voice reached your ears the throbbing and heat became nearly too much to handle. You had an urge to push him down, kiss him, tell him about every sinful fantasy you've ever had and beg for him to be the to fulfill them. "I swear I'm alright, I think I may have caught something. But I can make it back on my own."

None of the boys seemed to happy about that. You promised you'd call one of them when you're in your room and let them know you're fine. That was an hour ago. How could you get so lost in the labyrinth? Riddle didn't change it, as far as you knew. Every turn seemed to lead nowhere. Left, right, going back, nothing worked. You were simply lost. Lost and so painfully horny.

"Oh my, are you still here?" When did Riddle get behind you? Was he here to help you? "I thought I sensed someone here. What's the matter? Are you lost?" He walked up to you with the grace of a ruler, his crown perfectly in place, staff twirled in his hand and a very amused smile on his lips. So fucking sexy. "You're making a puddle. Hm, perhaps I put in a little too much." He frowned for a moment but then shrugged it off, like it didn't seem like vital information.

"Too much? What do you-" He took your hand in his, his touch and lips so hot they hurt your skin. It was nothing compared to the vines and thorns that crept up behind you and bound you up against the labyrinth wall. "Riddle? What's going on? What are you doing? Let me go!"

"Unfortunately I can't do that, my sweet rose. What you consumed in your tea was a very powerful aphrodisiac. I should have considered the dosage more carefully. I'm sorry for putting you through that, but it's alright, I'm here to help you now. I'll make it all better." His little chuckle sent a shiver down your spine, and not the nice kind. Your mind was torn, run or ask him to help?

Help? He just admitted he was the reason this was happening! But he was also the one offering to help. No, he was the one in the wrong here!

While you had your inner turmoil you didn't notice him undoing his pants and starting to stroke his cock, "I took some too you see. You're not alone, you'll never be alone again with me around. I'll take care of you, I'll be the best boyfriend you've ever had." Another sinister laugh left his mouth, his eyes blown wide, the crown now slightly on its side, "I've been waiting for this." Riddle used the top of his staff to spread your legs and move your panties to the side. The cold ruby pressed against your aching clit, the sound that left your body a cross between a moan and a pained whine. "Hurts right? I'll make you better love, I'll make it all better."

His cock came as sweet relief to your empty pussy, "Riddle..." You could barely think about anything, everything felt like it was too much, but his cock... it was perfect and just what you needed.

"Did you just come?" Riddle looked so happy with himself, his hips barely moving while he waited for your pussy to stop fluttering around his length. "I just put it in. You must have been suffering without my cock."

"I didn't. I didn't come." It was shameful to admit otherwise. This wasn't what you wanted to happen, how you wanted it to happen. "Not like this." You turned your face from him but your mouth still moaned when he thrust into you, "Don't... please stop moving... it's too much for me." Riddle never listened to anyone, you weren't about to change the King's mind either.

"I love you, I love dearest. Don't you see? I love you so much. After I saw you on my first party I had to get close to you, but you always hung around everyone else. You wouldn't even sit next to me!" You heard him yell before, a lot in fact, this was a different tone, broken, desperate, "Please understand. Understand how much I love you, I'm helping you realize it. Please."

What should have sounded like the unhinged ramblings of a madman wormed their way into your heard, warped your mind, made you finally look at him.

"Finally. You're looking, you're looking at me! Look down here too! See how well your pussy takes my cock? It's greedy! It wants this! You want this! You want me as much as I want you! Don't you?! Don't you, my beautiful rose?!" The warmth at the pit of your stomach returned at full force, the loud, crazy sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, burning lust and devotion reflecting your flushed face with such clarity, as well as how clouded your mind had become.

"I do love you." Riddle's face lit up with glee, the words freeing you of doubt that you weren't sure why it was there in the first place. Riddle was helping you, who are you to refuse his help? "I love you." You chuckled, "I've loved you for so long." Another laugher, a little bit louder, "Riddle."

Your back arched as far as it was able, stars dancing in front of your eyes, pussy twitching around Riddle's hard cock. "You're so tight! I'll make this one better for you! I'll make your cunt feel so good, let me fill it up." Your constant stream of pleas was only broken when you felt it, his cock emptying inside your, ropes of it painting your sensitive inner walls.

When he leaned against you to catch his breath you'd noticed the tight pressure around your wrists release. Now you were free to hold him, and he was free to hold you, now that you were fully complaint.

"Let's take you back to my castle. After today I think we should start moving your things there. And maybe inform the Principle that you'll be doing online classes only. I don't want anyone else laying their eyes or hands on you." Riddle gathered you in his arms, your body fully limp against him, pussy still pulsing with need around his cock, "There, there. You'll get more, don't you worry." He pressed a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. The two of you began your way back through the maze, Riddle's crown forgotten where you'd just been.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Breaking the cycle

Warning ⚠️; Grief, quick mention of child abuse, trauma, angst, past character death, let me be delusional. Spoils for Arcane all seasons.

Pairing: Silco/Male!Reader, Jinx & Male!Reader (Father Figure)

Summary; you were angry and hurt after the death of Silco, your lover and partner, by the hands of your adopted daughter Jinx. So you just walked away, needing time to heal. But how could a father stay away when his daughter needs him?

~~~~~~~~

You never imagined a life without Silco in it. From your time in the mine to now, he has always been there. Either by your side, in your shadow or his name being on someone’s lips. You couldn't recall a time without him except when you were a kid.

He had always gotten your back and you his. You had stopped counting the times you took care of his injuries or how many times Silco stitched you up. You almost lost him, still having nightmares about it even after his death.

You remembered how bloody and raw his face had been. You thought he was done for, but he had lived. Lived and with you had taken care of that ankle biter. Jinx had been a daughter to you the second you were introduced to her as you saw so much of yourself in her. She was a bundle of joy to you.

But now she was the reason of your greatest pain.

As Silco once said “Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?” and the answer was no. No there wasn't. For he had died by the hand of your own daughter.

You remembered screaming at the sight of Silco’s dead body as your heart and soul broke. His skin had been so cold when you cradled him in your arms, rocking and trying to wake up from that nightmare. Jinx had been crying, begging for forgiveness.

But you only felt anger and betrayal toward her. How could she after everything Silco had done and sacrificed for her? She was your only child and in a tantrum, she killed the only person who ever truly loved you.

How could you forgive her?

You had left, needing space away from her. Away from everything so you could heal and accept the reality. Easier said than done. Each morning you wake up cold in an empty bed, in a place filled with silence. Gone is the smell of cigars, makeup and coffee during the morning and it leaves a deeper hole in your heart.

The worst are the dreams and nightmares. The nightmares haunt you with the memories of the past of the mistakes you made. The dream teases you with a reality that isn't yours anymore. Like waking up next to Silco, being able to touch his face once more or kiss him one more time.

Either way, you always wake up crying, breaking more with each passing night.

Before you knew it, months had passed. You kept an ear out, listening to the news. Jinx was still being herself, but the tensions also grew. Even in your hole, you could feel it. It was a question of time before a single act blew everything up and conflict would turn into a bloody mess.

When you came back to your senses, grief still clouding your mind, you felt ashamed. You had turned your back on Jinx when she too was hurt by her own actions. You didn't know what to do, how to approach her and ask for forgiveness.

You wrote letter after letter, throwing away each one of them, disliking them. You couldn't find the right words until you stopped trying. You tried to explain to her how you felt, that you didn't hate her and forgave her just like Silco would have. You asked for her forgiveness for how you just treated her, knowing damn well you didn't deserve it.

After sending it, there was no answer.

Through the great vines, you learn that Jinx had taken a little girl under her arm. A child she had named Isha. Isha, what a sweet name you thought the first time you heard it. Jinx was still the kindhearted girl you remembered her to be and you were glad she had someone by her side even if it was a mute child.

Staying in the shadows, you watched over her. She seemed happy with that little girl, a spark coming back in her eyes. It was clear Jinx saw the kid as her sister, but that child saw her as more than that.

Jinx never noticed you, but Isha did. She came to you a few times and you always gave her a little something. Food, toys and even her own little gun once. Her smile reminded you of Jinx’s when she was little before Vi left. Maybe that was why Jinx kept her around, because Isha was just like her and she knew how to take care of the little girl.

You had wished to take your time coming back into Jinx’s life, but things took a wrong turn and you were forced to act quickly. The battle against Warwick took you by surprise, more than it should have. Why you didn't see it coming, you didn't know, but you showed up.

How couldn't you when your daughter was there, risking her life? But you didn't see her. Didn't see either her hair or heard her voice and you feared you had been too late. That she had died before you could ask for her forgiveness.

Then you heard her scream and just ran.

You saw a little flash of blue as Jinx screamed Isha’s name. The child looked at you as she passed you, running, a gun in her hands. Your blood turned to ice as you immediately knew what she was going to do.

You turned on your heels and followed after her. You were an adult, taller and larger than Isha and, more importantly, slower. But you managed to make your way through the battle and reach her as Isha raised her weapon. You snatched the damn thing from her and threw it in the air. Before it fell back down you took Isha in your arms and booked it.

Your legs and lungs hurt as you ran away, little hands grabbing your clothes. You gasped when the explosion happened, the blow hitting you in the back. You wrapped your arms around the child, trying to shield Isha as much as you could. Your body hit the ground with a loud thud and you felt your shoulder give up, dislocation.

Dust filled your mouth and nose, making you cough and sneeze. But so did Isha.

You opened your eyes, grimacing with pain before looking down. The kid was crying, her little hands rubbing her face. You sighed in relief seeing her unarmed. Unlike you. But you didn't care.

You slowly sat down hearing running footsteps coming towards you. You sat the kid on your lap still making sure she really wasn't hurt. Your shoulder was killing you, but you ignored the pain when Isha smiled at you before hugging you.

- “ISHA!” Jinx’s scream surprised you and you both looked in her direction.

Jinx was running toward you, her long braids bouncing all around the place. Tears rolled down her eyes you saw as she fell onto her knees next to you. You never got the chance to talk, your daughter wrapping her arms around you and Isha before she broke down crying.

You embraced her, letting her melt and snuggle against you. You weren't better as you began to cry as well, asking for her forgiveness. Jinx just nodded, whispering that you had nothing to be sorry about.

You closed your eyes, just wanting to savour the moment, but the next thing you knew darkness actually swallowed you up. You woke up on a comfortable bed, a small ball of heat pressed against your side. Groaning, you looked at what it was only to find Isha sleeping next to you. Her helmet had fallen from her head to the floor, but her hand still grabbed onto you. Little snores left her mouth and you smiled, passing a hand in her hair.

- “You are awake.” Jinx's voice almost scared the shit out of you and you froze, looking to the side.

Your daughter looked tired, like she hadn't slept in days. Maybe it was the case since you didn't know how long you were out. There was sadness and fear in her eyes as her gaze shifted to Isha. The sweet thing was unbothered.

- “Yeah. I guess I am.” You whispered, slowly blinking. “Jinx, sweety I…”

- “Don’t. Don’t say you are sorry. You have no reason to be, I understand. I got your letters I… just never knew what to reply and where to send them.” She cut you off, her fingers pinching the skin around her nails. “Thanks for saving Isha. I… I don't know…”

Tears filled her eyes and you offered her your hand. Jinx took it and you squeezed her delicate hand in your. You knew what she meant as you felt the same. Losing Silco had been painful, the worst pain you ever felt, but the thought of Jinx dying? Of losing your daughter to the cold embrace of death?

Oh, that sort of pain was unbearable. You wouldn't be able to keep living in a world without her.

- “I know princess, I know. That is why I was there, for you. I didn't want to lose you like that, not before asking for your forgiveness. I never should have left. I abandoned you when you needed me the most and I'll never forgive myself.” You said, voice low as to not wake up the kid.

Jinx dried her eyes before almost jumping into the bed. She dropped on your other side, arms around you as she buried her face in your unhurt shoulder. You grimaced a bit, body still sore, but wrapped your arm around her.

- “You are my daughter and you'll aways be. Nothing will change that, Jinx, okay?” You whispered in her hair as she nodded.

- “You scared me. When you lost consciousness I thought you just dropped dead. I thought… I thought I had lost you again.”

Her voice shivered as she fought back her tears. You closed your eyes, kissing her head. You didn't want to think about it. You weren't scare to die, but you also didn't want to leave Jinx alone with a child in her charge.

- “I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you so much.” You said, stroking her hair.

- “That's a lot of sorry…” She whispered and you snorted.

- “Yeah, I have a lot to be sorry about… What about the kid? How’s Isha doing?” You asked, turning your attention toward the sleeping girl.

- “Hadn't left your side ever since we got you here. She helped me take care of your wounds and your shoulder. I don't think she like the sound of dislocated shoulders.”

- “You didn't either at her age.”

She laughed and you smiled.

- “Dad… are you…” She mumbled, unable to fully ask her question but you knew what it was.

- “I am not going anywhere. I came back home, I came back for you and Isha.” You replied and Jinx relaxed against you as if you had taken the weight of the world off her shoulders. “But the kid is still your responsibility. You took her in, you are raising her.”

- “Too young to be a mom!” She whined and you chuckled.

- “Then be a big sister to her. Like I said, I ain't leaving you alone. We will manage. After all, me and Silco raised you well enough. I bet I can do it again.”

Jinx had tensed when you mentioned Silco but quickly relaxed again. She nodded and wrapped her arms tighter around you.

- “Sleep. You need it as much as I do.” You whispered and Jinx denied it.

Yet, it wasn't long until your daughter was fast asleep against you. You looked down at her, admiring the woman she was becoming. You were glad you had managed to save Isha, not liking the idea of her death destroying Jinx. She had lost so much, losing that kid would have been the last straw.

You fell asleep soon as well, wondering if Silco was watching over your little family from the other side. You felt a wave of sadness at the though of Isha never knowing Silco but chased the thought away.

Even if he was dead, you weren’t and you would make sure to share memories of him and Jinx’s childhood with Isha.

You fell asleep with a smile on your lips being finally back home.

[marril96]

Safe Haven

Chapter 2: Soft as a Smile

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: After months of no contact, Agatha shows up at your door badly injured, and it’s up to you to help her.

Previous chapter.

It was Agatha's voice that shook you from the fantasy of reconciliation to the strained but steadily improving reality where she was badly injured and taking care of her was more important than daydreaming about a change in your relationship.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

"Of course!"

As if on autopilot, you leapt to your feet. You hated that you had to let go of her hands. Hated that, once again, you were the one to sever contact, however temporary it was.

The three months you'd gone without touching her had felt like an eternity.

You never wanted to part from her again.

Agatha took the glass from you with both hands. It was only then that you noticed lines, an angry red, cutting deep across her wrists. Restraints, you assumed. She must have pushed and pulled until she'd managed to get them off.

Her hands trembled, and, instinctively, you reached to help her hold the glass up to her mouth. She threw you a brief glance, embarrassed, ashamed at needing help at such a basic task as drinking water.

"It's okay," you assured her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was the people who did it to her that should be ashamed, though you doubted their kind was familiar with the concept.

As Agatha finished, and you laid the glass on the table beside the supplies you'd gathered for her care, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. A wordless repetition of your words. It was okay. You were here, and you loved her; temporary weakness didn't change that.

Even if it was permanent, it wouldn't change a thing.

Powerful or not, at full strength or injured, she was your girl. She would always be your girl.

Agatha's arms shot up, a gesture you'd come to know by heart. When she wanted affection, she took it. When you needed it, she gave it to you. No words necessary.

You allowed her to pull you to her and bury her face in your stomach. Instinct prompted you to reach for her, to hold on to her, most likely too tightly considering the condition she was in, but she didn't utter a word of complaint, so you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. To get lost in her, so fragile, so vulnerable, wrapped around you like a child in need of comfort.

You hoped you could provide it.

You hoped you would be good enough.

"I love you so much," you said, your heart brimming with it, ready to burst. "I know you don't trust me right now, and you have every right not to, but, please, trust that."

"Would I be here if I didn't trust you?" Agatha asked.

"I don't deserve it."

"Neither do I, yet here you are."

Quite a pair the two of you made. A match made in hell, some might say. As if that was a bad thing.

She knew this was the safest place for her. Not just because of the protection spell, but because you were here. She knew you wouldn't let anyone lay a hand on her. If hunters were to come knocking, you would kill them without a second thought.

For hunting her. For hurting her.

You'd killed for her before, and you would do it again in a heartbeat.

"You deserve the world," you said, and meant it; every syllable, every word. You kept on holding her, kept on pressing her to you as if to make sure that she was real. To make sure that this wasn't a dream, and you were going to wake up any moment now, cold and alone.

"I know," Agatha said with feigned arrogance, prompting you to chuckle. "Right back at you, honey."

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, engulfed in each other, lost in the embrace you'd both been craving for all these months. Not having her with you was hell. The words you'd said to her last spinning around your head in an endless loop was an even worse one.

It was her who initiated the parting. "All right, honey, I'm digging the moment, but I need to breathe."

Though unwilling to do so, you instantly released her. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not any more than breathing does," she said in a jovial tone that you assumed she put on for your sake. "That's what happens when you get kicked in the ribs for hours. Jot it down for future reference."

Your teeth grit to the point of pain. Fists balled, nails digging into your skin.

They would die for that.

There would be blood.

"After I clean you up, I'll make you a potion." You sucked at potions, but she could guide you to doing it right.

"Don't bother. Whatever they shot me up with is blocking all magic inside me. It wouldn't do shit."

Fuck! "Then I'll be extra gentle."

"That's a first," she said with a naughty grin.

You quirked up an eyebrow. "I don't recall you complaining."

"Because I'm not."

"Then what are you doing?"

Being a little shit.

"Making small talk."

"Ah. Of course."

You missed this. The casual atmosphere, the playful banter, that pucker of her lips that you found to be the most adorable thing in the world.

It almost made you forget she had just escaped brutal torture.

One look at her face, however, was enough to remind you of the horrifying fact.

"I'll be careful, but if I hurt you, just say so and I'll stop," you said, plopping down onto a seat opposite Agatha on the couch and reaching for the rag you'd prepared.

She gave a small nod. Her eyes were on your hands, tracking your every movement. Trusting, but verifying.

Wetting the rag, you gently dabbed around her mouth. Blood slid off her skin with ease. If only it were that easy to remove the bruises. If only a piece of fabric soaked in warm water would take away her pain.

As soon as her face was clean, you moved to her wrists. She let out a hiss as the rag brushed against the thin cut, still open, still raw.

"Sorry," you said. "There's some dirt in there. I need to clean it out."

"It's fine," Agatha assured you.

She let you finish your work, first on her left wrist, and then her right one, gritting her teeth throughout. Pushing through the pain, through the clear discomfort.

"What did they want from you?" you asked in an attempt to distract her. Hunters usually killed witches on sight. As much as they hated your kind, they didn't keep you. Not even to torture you.

They had to have wanted something from her. Something she either couldn't or didn't want to give them.

"Information," Agatha said.

"About what?"

She instantly averted her eyes, focusing on you wrapping bandages around her wrists.

"We can talk when you're ready," you assured her, giving one of her hands a quick squeeze.

Whatever it was that they wanted to know, she clearly didn't feel like talking to you about it. Not yet, anyway.

The last thing you wanted to do was pressure her.

After what she'd been through, it was a wonder she allowed you to bring it up at all. Especially as the mere act of talking — of breathing, of living — brought her pain.

Agatha took in a big breath, face contorting with pain as she did so, then said, "They knew there were two of us."

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"They wanted me to tell them where my, quote, companion was."

Oh.

Oh.

Blood ran cold in your veins as the realization set in.

The hunters hadn't just wanted Agatha — they had wanted you, as well.

It was a well known fact that the two of you were a package deal. Where there was one, the other was nearby.

Why kill only one witch when they could kill two?

They must have heard rumors, or been filled in by the witch they'd had on payroll, about Agatha's traitorous tendencies. They must have thought she would give up your location; maybe not right away, but with the right incentive, under the right amount of pain, everyone was bound to crack. Especially the most infamous witch of all.

They didn't know Agatha at all.

She was many things, plenty of them bad, but when she loved someone, she was all in. She had a heart, a big one, and it loved as fiercely as everyone else's; even more so. She may not show it to the outside world, but it was there. You felt it in every pet name she uttered, in every touch of her hand. In every gesture, no matter how insignificant it appeared at first. Even during your worst arguments, that heart cherished you.

You'd never felt truly loved until you'd met her.

She'd made sure you would feel it every single day.

When she said she could go for two weeks instead of two days, she meant it. Because she had something — someone — to protect. She'd let them hit her, kick her, torture her; if she hadn't managed to escape, she would've still been there, silent as a mouse, gritting her teeth through each blow.

All so you wouldn't have to.

Agatha raised a finger in warning. "Before you go all, 'Oh, no'—" she put on a mock voice that was supposed to be a rendition of yours — and it was, an almost uncanny one, which you found mildly offensive, "—in that sad little voice of yours, remember that it was my decision not to tell them anything. And I would do it again if I had to."

In other words, don't feel bad about it. She'd chosen to protect you at the cost of her own wellbeing.

She'd put you first once, and she would do so again.

Your eyes burned with welling tears. "I was so awful to you."

Agatha shrugged. "Just because you said some… unsavory things doesn't mean I want you to die."

What you'd said was beyond unsavory. It was cruel. Borderline sadistic.

"You could've died," you pointed out.

"Honey, I was dead as soon as they captured me. Well, I should've been," she said nonchalantly, as if she were talking about the weather. "I didn't see the point of dragging you into it."

Yet you'd called her selfish. Had said she didn't care about you, that she'd loved power more than you. That you'd never felt loved by her.

God, you were a bitch.

Gently, you picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Is there anything I can do?"

"About those shitheads? You can watch me kill them when I get my power back." She smirked. "You love that."

There was something attractive about her draining witches dry. When she would kiss you after, she would be brimming with magic, new and electric. Ecstatic. It gave your heart the zoomies.

"I do," you confirmed, allowing your lips to curl into a smile, "but, I mean, to make things right between us."

Agatha sighed. She reached out, and you instinctively went to her, kneeling down by her seated form. As soon as her hands cupped your cheeks, your eyes fell closed. How you missed her touch, so tender, so sweet. So loving. Yet another proof of the lies your insults spewed.

Every time she touched you like this, she was telling you she loved you. Without a single word uttered, you knew she felt it, and she made sure you felt it just as intensely, just as fiercely.

How could you say she never loved you? How could you say you'd never felt it?

"You want us to be okay?" she asked.

You gave a nod, a tiny, timid one. "Yeah."

"Then we're okay."

You stared. "Just like that?" Surely, there had to be more to it. She couldn't just forgive you.

"Do you want me to be angry at you?" Agatha asked.

Yes, you did. You wanted her to be absolutely pissed. You wanted her to throw things, or blow something up, or scream at the top of her lungs like she usually did when she was mad.

You wanted her to do to you what you'd done to her.

"Agatha, I hurt you." A tear, two, three slid down your face, the memories of the things you'd said stabbing at you like knives. "Hurt me back."

"Why?" she demanded.

Because you'd hurt her first. "Because I deserve it."

"No, you don't." Her fingers rubbed your cheeks. Wiped your tears. "Someone else would, but not you. Never you."

"Why not?"

"Because I love you. Because I know you." Then, reluctantly, she added, "Because I hurt you first."

Right.

The reason the entire argument had erupted in the first place.

Agatha had forgotten your anniversary, having busied herself draining a — honestly, rather unimpressive — witch, while you'd waited for her at the restaurant she'd explicitly told you she would be at the day before.

You'd waited for her for over an hour like a fool. Had even started worrying that something had happened, that someone she'd slighted in the past (or the last twenty minutes; it didn't take her long to piss people off) had harmed her.

To add insult to injury, she had been the one to call you, asking where the hell you were, because she, having just absorbed some magic, was horny, and it frustrated her that you were nowhere to be found.

"I was looking forward to that dinner," you said, remembering how excited you were. How jovial. It was supposed to be one of the best nights of your lives.

It ended up being the worst.

"As was I," Agatha said. "I just thought it was supposed to take place the day after."

Right.

Forgetting things might as well be her middle name.

At least she managed to remember your birthday. She'd never failed to surprise you with a present she'd somehow know you wanted despite you not telling her a thing. She was perceptive like that.

"Of course you did," you snarked.

Agatha pouted in that way you found both adorable and sexy. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

Of course you would. "I expect something fancy."

"I wouldn't go for anything less. Who do you think I am?" she said, feigning offense.

You grinned. "It's a deal."

She blinked innocently. "So, you forgive me?"

How could you not forgive her when she looked at you like that?

How could you not forgive her when she looked like that?

Consciously or not, the injuries worked in her favor. She could punch you in the face, and you would probably find it hard to stay angry at her.

"I forgive you," you said.

There were few things in the world you could never forgive her for. Especially at this point in your relationship.

She smiled. "I really am sorry."

"I know you are."

It was a bitch move, yes, but it had only happened once. As much as it hurt, it wasn't like she had a habit of forgetting important dates.

Forgetting important things that didn't pertain to your relationship, yes. Names, dates, entire events. If she didn't find it personally significant, her brain erased it.

But something personal? Something in relation to you? Never. Those things stayed pinned at the top of her mental list.

You could forgive one blunder.

So long as she didn't make a habit of it.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn @midnight-lestrange

[siflooping]

adding into this to say that i think it'd be a great exploration of like. ok let me try to word it.

edit this ended up being Way Too Fucking Long so its under a readmore. AND i broke it into two parts (added a bit of siffrin Braintime Thoughts (bad) to the next rb). i got wordy bitch disease!

so first there's the stuff that's relevant to sifloop in both canon and an au like this. loop is someone who changed so much from the Torment Nexus they were put in that they felt completely removed from who they used to be, who feels like the trauma they experienced is all they are. who loathes the person they used to be with passion, thinks that they were stupid and pathetic and needy. their past self who always felt like such a disgusting and terrible person that they assumed even their loved ones were put off by them and always one mistake away from hating them. who thought that they were objectively fundamentally unloveable.

and then loop meets someone who IS who they used to be, as a separate, distinct person. the person they, for a very long time, considered to be worthless, unloveable, repulsive by nature. they get to see themselves in third person, to interact with them as a person rather than an abstraction or their past self. and he's. well. just some guy (gn)? to someone on the outside of their head he's not horrible, mean, disgusting, selfish, monstrous, or any of the innumerable negative things siffrin as a person has always believed to be. they're just. a little guy? who is actually. kind of funny and endearing, who does his best, who loves their friends so much it hurts. who loop ends up genuinely enjoying the company of and caring about.

which i think is neat vis a vis self-perception, self-compassion and the extemely subjective way one usually sees themselves! i just think it'd be interesting to see an angle of this where sif like. remains as they were in act 1 instead of being put in the torment nexus and how that'd influence the rship.

there's no way loop WOULDN'T feel extremely bitter about the difference in their circumstances! i'm 50/50 as to whether theyd direct that towards sif as is at first (why does HE get to not suffer?! Why did THEY have to suffer where he didn't! it's not fair!). or if they'd instead direct it to like, the universe at large? in the 2hats fight they say they hate their country, the universe, the stars, but notably (to ME!) they never say they hate siffrin.

tbh i think either way they'd end up kind of hot and cold, both bitter and protective. prolly v possessive either way bc like that is LITERALLY who they were as a person before the timeloops tore away their personality and body! it's THEM. they're ALL that remains of the "original" siffrin. so if anyone gets to have him, to keep him, it should be loop! they went through hell, then had to do it AGAIN in a different flavor by watching one of their family members go through the Torment Nexus. and break out of it where they couldn't. and of realizing the reason the Torment Nexus existed, that both loop and one of their family members were pushed to the brink in a hell of repetition is bc of a Wish they accidentally made. they lost EVERYTHING. so. SOO! they deserve to have this at the very least (as a treat).

toxic yuri aside, i think non-looperrrrr siffrin's company would be unexpectedly comfortable & comforting to loop bc like. they know exactly how siffrin thinks bc you know. they used to be siffrin. esp since this siffrin isn't changed by the timeloop experience. so there's no anxiety over what he may be thinking of them (be it negative or positive) or if they secretly hate loop, because they can tell very easily! so hanging out with this siffrin would be like... reading a book you've read a million times, watching a play you've watched so many times you know every beat, or like comfort food. i knowww they'd do the equivalent of when cats act like them laying on your lap and purring is totally a coincidence, incidental, circumstancial, and does not indicate anything, you mean nothing to me, what do you mean you're going to the kitchen come BACK DONT LEAVE ME. fun for the whole family!

ok wait you know what'd be interesting and more importantly hilarious. sifloop, but in an au where someone else from the party is looping. can you fucking imagine

[drewsbraziliangf]

there'll be happiness after you | Drew Starkey x black!reader

summary: what can you do when you're back in the same place where you had your heart broken for the last time? Is there any way to move past all the hurt and longing?

a/n: ok so I'm sorry for the long wait for this... This will be the last part of this story :'( I want to thank you guys for the love shown in this because this is my first time writing for anything other than House of the Dragon in a loooong time. I hugely suggest listening to "No Goodbyes" by Dua Lipa, "Funeral" by Zara Larsson or "happiness" by Taylor Swift during this read. I hope y'all enjoy it!

dividers: @/saradika

warnings: some cuss words, angst.

The morning after a was never my favorite. Always waking up with a pounding headache and lips as dry as a desert is not the best way to start a day. But there was something about today that made it all worse, for some reason, my brain decided to remember most of the events of the previous night─ touches, kisses, promises, apologies─ everything.

A part of me prayed that I'd forget about it and be able to sneak out without him noticing, but seemed like he was expecting that already and gotten up before I was even awake. The only thing that made it clear that he was indeed at home, was the soft sounds coming from the kitchen.

Okay... I know this apartment like the back of my mind, so since the kitchen door wasn't a direct line for the main door, maybe if I'm quiet enough I'd be able to leave without him noticing, right?

Dwelling on it would only make it worse, so I got up, picked up my clothes from the day before, and quickly got dressed again, this time feeling much more exposed than I did last night. I looked around for my phone, but it wasn't anywhere to be seen. Cursing myself, I remembered that I left it in the living room. Great, a detour.

Thankfully I didn't have to worry too much about how my hair looked as the braids did half the work in keeping it presentable. With a sigh, I walked out of the room with my heels in hand and kept quietly praying to the gods above to grant me this one wish. I just needed my phone and then I'm able to leave.

As I reached the main hall, I could see the bathroom door closed and the lights on. Great, this would be even easier. I quickly walked towards the living room looking for my phone, thankfully it was exactly where I remembered leaving it. It took me no time to grab the device and turn toward the door, only to have one of the biggest jump scares of my life.

"HOLY SHIT!" My left hand instinctively went to my chest as my heart rate increased.

Yeah, there goes my prayers. Drew was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a black tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was messy and there was still a small air of sleepiness around him. He cleared his throat as he stared at me.

"Yeah, I knew you'd try to do that," he said with a shrug.

"Well, this is exactly what I was trying to avoid," I snap back after I'm calmer.

I could feel my hands getting sweaty and the weight of his gaze upon me was making me feel so uncomfortable. Like there was this white elephant in the room getting bigger by the second.

"Uhm, I kinda have to go-"

"Come on, let's talk over breakfast."

Without giving me a chance to answer he walked back towards the kitchen and I had no choice but to follow him. With a bit of reluctance, I dragged my bare feet after him. The cold tiles on the floor were not even bothering me as they were five minutes ago.

The worst kind of deja vu bathed me as I stood by the counter. The last time I was here was the worst day of my life, so I wasn't feeling great watching him move so effortlessly.

He filled two glasses with black coffee and the toaster with white bread before picking up some jam and cottage cream cheese.

I sat on one of the benches and quietly accepted the plate he handed me once it was all done, he then proceeded to sit by my side and we began to eat in silence, more like me watching him eat as I sipped my coffee.

"So you were just going to sneak out?" He asked casually after a few minutes as he coated his toast with jam.

"What did you expect me to do? I shouldn't even come here in the first place," I bite back and he places his mug down.

"Well, I thought you would at least grant me the chance to talk. We have a lot to talk about."

"No, we don't. We fucked and that's it. It shouldn't have happened and it won't happen again. It can't happen again." I confess, with the instinct of avoiding to meet his eyes.

"What do you mean? We have to talk this through and fix what happened. I know that I fucked up but you just left. As if it all meant nothing to you. We were getting married, for fucks sake." He says, throwing his hands in the air in annoyance.

At that, I stand up and begin walking back toward the living room. I had to leave. This could escalate and both of us leave even more hurt than before.

"I'm not doing this again. I didn't just leave. You pushed me away. You didn't give me a reason to stay. That's what happened."

"I love you! How can you say that?"

"Yeah, you might. But do you like me?" The words leave my mouth before a second to think them over.

He watches me for a second before running a hand over his face. All the traces of sleep were gone from his features now.

"Because I did. And I was so in love with you too," I continue, as my eyes begin to sting. "I was so ready to have the rest of my life by your side. So, how could you do that to me? When did I stop being enough?"

The questions kept flowing out and I couldn't filter my feelings or my words. I just wanted this to end once and for all. My brain couldn't stop reminiscing on last night's events. His touches, his kisses, him.

But being sober now and knowing it all was killing me. How could I be such a fool? After I tried so hard to erase him from my mind...

"No, baby, please listen to me, okay? Just let me talk," he pleaded taking a step closer.

"No, Drew. There is nothing to talk about. I shouldn't have come here and this shouldn't even be happening."

My voice is slightly pitchier than I'd like but I couldn't help it.

"Do you have any idea of how hard it was for me?" I ask looking at his glossy eyes. "I don't get to travel all around the world and the country so I can simply put what happened aside. I had to deal with pitying looks for weeks. I had to walk around the city remembering a life we planned together but wouldn't have anymore. I have to keep on living knowing that that the man I loved didn't choose me when I really fucking needed him to."

At this point, I wasn't trying to keep track of my tears or my words. I just needed that out of my chest so I could be free. I was so tired of carrying these in my heart that even if it hurt, it was freeing.

"So it would be so fucking unfair to me if I just walked back into this," I say as I wipe my face with the back of my hand. "I can't do this to myself again. No matter how much a big part of me still cares about you. I deserve better. I have to choose myself because you clearly didn't."

He didn't say anything at that because there wasn't anything that could be said. Both of us knew that I was right.

Seeing him cry was like picking at an open wound, it made me feel even worse. But, what else could I do? I could feel this eating me up inside and I couldn't look past all the suffering I went through just because he showed up again.

"Loving someone isn't enough to keep a relationship going. You have a lot to do and you didn't, you really didn't. So I'm sorry if I can't just pretend to be okay with everything after a few hours spent together after a few months."

"You think you're the only one suffering in this? I lost you and I had to wake up in our bed every day. I had to be in this apartment knowing that the person who made it a home wasn't going to return. And that no matter what I did or who came by, it was never going to be the same."

His confession made my heart clench but he brought this upon himself. It wasn't me who gave up on it.

"And who's to blame for that?" I say looking into his eyes.

"I know. Don't you think I've blamed myself enough for that?  Because I did, for all the days that you have not been here. This is the first time in seven months when I have felt a sense of normalcy and that's because you're here. Don't you see that?"

Now that the bandaid was ripped once again, the both of us were in tears standing in the middle of the living room. The walls felt like they were getting closer and closer each second that passed.

"Did you know that Frankie came by on the third month? She gave me the TED talk of my life."

That caught your attention, Frankie has never mentioned that. At all.

"She told me that she knew that I wasn't good enough for you from the start, but that she had never expected me to be a shitty partner too. That she had never seen someone disrespect their girlfriend as much as I did without even knowing and that now that I was single the reason for my breakup pushed me aside for someone more interesting. So that not only was I trash for  how I treated you but I was also dumb for not seeing it."

His words come as a shock to you. With shaking hands and deep breaths, you look around the room trying to focus on something that isn't his red face.

"And she's not wrong, you know? And I was also a coward for never coming to you and watching your life on the sidelines."

At this point, I was feeling the huge urge to sob. My hands were sweaty, my tears were not even drying in my face as new ones came down.

"So I'm sorry, okay? I'm so fucking sorry for it. But please, don't say that I didn't care enough about you. Because I did."

His words keep ringing in my ear for a while as I try to place my thoughts correctly. Seven months ago I thought that it would be the last time I would see him and then I'd be able to heal and move on, but now seeing him and hearing everything was bringing a new wave of unaddressed feelings that I have not dealt with yet.

"I can't." A whisper comes out of my lips after a while. "And you have to understand why I can't do this again. I can't ignore everything."

He looks at me with his lips trembling as his tears keep on falling down his face. In the walls of this apartment now the only sound that rang was defeat. This was a lost cause and no matter what happened, both of us would be losing today. 

"I'm sorry, Drew. I really am, but there's nothing that can be done anymore. " I declare as I finally feel like he might let me go. "I hope you find someone who's ready and brave enough to love you through it all, you deserve to be loved and the times that I felt genuinely loved by you were the greatest. That person just won't be me."

Like the first time, months ago, I turned towards the front door and walked out.  Knowing that he would not follow me and that whatever had remained seven months and thirteen days ago, was completely over this time. Even if a huge part of me kept screaming at me to forgive him, I knew I couldn't. Not only it wouldn't be fair to me but I knew what would happen. Of course she wasn't as present in his life anymore, she completely isolated him from any potential significant other he could have. And if we got back together, the cycle would repeat itself and I would never put myself in a situation where I had to fight for someone's attention just to be tossed aside as if I was nothing. 

In this story, there was ever only one winner and it wasn't either Drew or I. 

💖taglist💖: @emmaafinchh @rafecamerons-national-anthem @bvleeeeeee @a-j-stuffs @maybankslover @lovelylove268 @cooper8224 @esquivelbianca @dreamybabbyy @lulubabii @idiotussupremus @drewsphswife @ietss @noneofyabuisnezs @chenslucy @yvbe99 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @theeternaloptimistt @roselibrary @daddydraco0 @iheartcats444 @allopathi

[ssentimentals]

seungcheol and reader, hurt prompt - 24 and suggestive prompt - 35.

hope you're doing welll!!! you're writing is so goood btw : ) keep it up!!!!

hello! i am doing well, thanks for asking dear, hope you are too :) thank you for the kind words and thanks for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt/suggestive prompt: 'why won't it just stop?' - 'bite me.' 'don't tempt me sweetheart.'

anger used to feel like fire: it burned you from the inside, made you want to scream and shout and destroy. now anger feels like sharp knife slowly twisting in your back: it brings tears to your eyes and makes it hard to breathe. 'why won't it just stop?' you question out loud.

seungcheol is the only person in the room and he's the one who's twisting that knife in your back; he's the one who you wish you didn't love so much for it to hurt like that. 'you're refusing to see my side,' he says, voice full of remorse. 'you don't listen to me. i keep on trying to tell you-'

'oh, spare me, seungcheol!' you interrupt, rolling your eyes. 'it's always me who is not listening, always me who is apparently not understanding enough. and you're an angel, aren't you?' you pause, meeting seungcheol's gaze. there's a clear warning there, but you are hurting too much to care. 'why are you looking at me like that, huh? what you're gonna do? bite me?'

seungcheol looks very close to doing exactly so, to be honest. 'don't tempt me, sweetheart.' his voice is cold despite the petname. 'i know that you're angry-'

'i am not angry, seungcheol.' you interrupt again. 'i am hurting. do you hear? hurting. not like you care though.'

his patience snaps at this and he rushes towards you, fuming. 'you think i don't care?' he asks, throwing hands up. 'you think i don't? i'm still here, trying to make us talk, trying to make up despite your bratty ass not helping at all. this is how 'not caring' looks for you?' you turn, ready to leave the room, when he grabs your wrist: 'you are not leaving.'

'seungch- oh my god!' you shriek, when he suddenly lifts you up. 'put me down!'

'no, we will try to leave again and i am so, so fucking done with this.' he starts carrying you towards the living room, ignoring your slaps on his back. 'a little bit less resistance would've been appreciated.'

you don't even have words to say. seungcheol pretty much dumps you on the sofa and stands close, preventing all ways for an escape. 'you will talk and i will listen,' he says strictly. 'and then i will talk and you will listen. no one is interrupting anyone. clear?'

you nod. he nods back and crosses arms over his chest, staring down at you. 'go ahead then. start.'

and you do.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[gothsoyl]

┊┊┊⁺ ⁺ DECEMBER CHALLENGE

"Forgive me" rio vidal x reader word count: 1754 summary: you were sent to the catholic boarding school by your parents. you weren't the most rebellious type, but you weren't straight and it was enough for your them. she's one of the nun who's constantly keeping an eye on you, trying to help and adjust here.

Your parents sent you to Catholic school when they saw you kissing your classmate in one of the shopping malls. You always knew how much they despised... people like you, but you never thought that you would’ve to face their anger. 

They raged and said that people like you don't belong here.

“God will punish you,” your father practically spat out these words, and you went silent, just looked at the floor and thought that it sounded... disgusting. 

If there is a god and if he created you like this, why should he punish you?

You didn't understand how it worked. You didn't understand why you were so ashamed of what was a part of you. 

Or are they right and it will pass?

“You should’ve been more careful,” you told yourself, sitting in the back seat of the car while your parents drove you to Catholic school. They said that the devil will be cast out of you. You're just confused, they said, but you've never felt confused until now.

You felt great until your parents intervened. And now you're being eaten up by a sense of shame and misunderstanding.

You adjust your long skirt and look at your neighbors – they seem painfully normal and you relax a little.

“You need to go to Sister Vidal,” says one of the girls, turning her head slightly sideways and examining the things that you put out of the suitcase, “she usually shows the school to the new ones.”

You nod, lost in your thoughts, but then the girl puts her hand on your shoulder and whispers.

“Hide it,” you look at her in incomprehension, after which you look down at the pack of cigarettes in your things, “if someone sees it, then you can be punished.”

“You mean the teachers?”

“Students can rat on you too,” she shrugs and takes a step back, giving you at least some sense of personal space.

You don't like this place even more.

***

You’re sitting in the garden under one of the trees, the leaves of which have already begun to fall off. It's cold on the ground and you just press your knees to your chest, trying to get unnecessary thoughts out of your head.

You want to go home, but it feels like you don't have a home anymore.

You reach for a pack of cigarettes in the pocket of your skirt and light it, taking a long drag. You have no desire to go to classes, and what can they do? Expel you? As if leaving this place could be a punishment.

“I usually meet new students in my office, not smoking in the garden,” you immediately flinch and turn around. The smoke from the cigarette gets into the wrong throat, burning the walls and making you cough, and your eyes get wet from tears. 

You try to come to your senses faster and quickly wipe your eyes, watching a female figure in a monk's robe that is slowly approaching you.

“You’re a Sister Vidal?” Your voice is a little hoarse and you're still trying to clear your throat while you're taking in the woman in front of you. You think she's angry for breaking one of the rules, but you don't see a shadow of irritation in her eyes – just calmness and some kind of distance. 

“You're a smart girl, aren't you?” You're frowning a little, trying to figure out what's going on. She doesn't even seem to pay attention to the fact that one of the students is sitting in front of her and smoking instead of going to class.

The nun carefully sits down next to you and looks up, but you can't take your eyes off her. It even makes you uncomfortable how close she is sitting, but you don't say anything. 

You take another drag, but your throat still hurts.

“A few girls come here of their own free will,” her voice is quiet, but there is a firmness in it that makes you listen to her every word, “many start to rebel and think that this is the end of the world. But it doesn't make them, their parents, or us feel any better.”

“What are you even talking about?” you frown a little and notice how a faint smile appears on her lips and disappears just as quickly.

“I mean, the more you resist and rebel, the harder it will be for you in the first place,” she looks at you so attentively that you immediately begin to feel vulnerable. There's no hostility in her expression, but something makes you feel weird. She slowly lowers her gaze at the pack of cigarettes and holds out her hand. You hesitate, but you give them to her anyway, taking another drag.

“Is it indecent for girls to smoke?” You laugh when you see the look on her face as she examines the cigarettes. It seems funny to you, but Rio shakes her head and quickly snatches the cigarette out of your hands.

“It's indecent for anyone to smoke, darling,” she takes one drag and lets the smoke out, making you open your mouth in surprise. it's not often you see nuns doing this, “besides, such cheap cigarettes.”

Sister Vidal gets up from the ground and dusts the dirt off the hem of her skirt, after which she reaches into her pocket and throws a pack of thin marlboros at your feet, and your eyebrows rise in even greater surprise.

“I'll be waiting for you in my office after this lesson.”

What's wrong with this woman?

***

It's been months since your parents put you in this cage in the name of God.

You’re sick of this place, but there is one “but”.

Sister Vidal.

The only thing that makes you happy here is Sister Vidal. Her gaze is mesmerizing and you involuntarily start smiling when you see how she looks at you. Sometimes, when she touched you, you shuddered, feeling her clinging cold fingers on you, but you didn’t dare to pull away.

You wanted to prolong this feeling.

“Do you think he sees everything?” It's hard for you to tell if Rio was serious then or if it was a joke, but you just shrugged your shoulders, unable to take your eyes off her.

“I don't know, you're a nun here,” you smile stupidly.

“Right,” Rio shook her head and gave you either a smile or something else before turning away.

You met her several times in the garden or under the stairs after lights out – she would then stand quietly next to you and take the cigarette out of your hands, taking a few puffs before trampling it.

Sister Vidal seemed too weird to be a nun, but you personally were fine with it. You even loved it.

You walk quietly down the dark corridor, looking around and listening to every rustle. Your hands all smell of cigarette smoke, and your cheeks are red from the strong wind.

You know that you should be in the room at such a late hour, but you can’t bear to lie and listen to the quiet snuffling of your neighbors.

You stop abruptly when you hear a familiar whisper. You look around and notice how a faint glow is visible from under one of the doors. 

You hesitate, but still take a few careful steps, opening the door to the chapel, noticing such a beloved silhouette - Sister Vidal is sitting on her knees, hands clasped in prayer, and only a couple of candles illuminate the room.

You take a new step, and the door creaks unpleasantly when you close it. Rio immediately opens her eyes and looks over her shoulder. She looks even more thoughtful than usual, and that makes you uneasy.

“It's too late,” you don't immediately realize that she said something. You're too caught up in the way her dark eyes reflect the candle flame.

“I know,” you nod and remain silent for a while, exchanging glances with Sister Vidal, “can I join you?”

In all the months you've been here, you've never really prayed. So what has changed now? Maybe it's Rio?

The woman doesn't answer, just moves a little to the side to make room for you. 

You sit down next to her, but all your thoughts are occupied only by the nun, who has closed her eyes again, and her lips are silently saying a prayer.

“What are you praying for?” 

“For the cleansing of my sins,” you cringe uncomfortably and feel a lump in your throat.

“I didn't know nuns had sins,” your fingers smooth the hem of your skirt and you look down. The room is getting cold.

“Everyone has them,” her voice is quiet and there are shades of sadness in them, “but I can't atone for my sins. They keep coming back, I beg for, but I know they're still in my heart.”

You nod, feeling like you know what she's talking about. There is an unpleasant silence between you and you just look at the candle in front of you, but there is no heat coming from it.

“Are you sure this is a sin?” You look up at her again and notice a sad smile on her lips.

“Have you ever tried to pray?” You frown when she ignores your question, but you don't find the strength to say it. You just shake your head and finally notice a slight smile on her lips, “try it. I will help.”

You feel lost under her gaze, but you don't resist. She gently takes your hands in hers and folds them in prayer. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember the words you learned.

O Lord, Jesus Christ, Redeemer and Saviour, forgive my sins.

you feel Rio moving closer to you, and your heart stops when her body touches yours.

Just as You forgave Peter's denial and those who crucified You

Her hands slide down your wrists and to your shoulders, but you don't open your eyes.

Count not my transgressions, but, rather, my tears of repentance

her fingers feel so cold on your chin, and her nails scratch your delicate skin.

Remember not my iniquities, but, more especially, my sorrow for the offenses I have committed against You

Her lips on yours make you shudder.

I long to be true to Your Word, and pray that You will love me and come to make Your dwelling place within me.

you move closer to her, kissing her even deeper.

[iluvapplesxh]

| rest, baby |

ဗီူဗီူ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

☕︎ summary: You were tired, so- so tired and you felt like if you took one more step, you'd fell apart right away. Billie was there, and she held you close just as if you would in fact break at any moment.

☠︎ cw: angst, I guess, fluff, comfort, crying !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

☏ a/n: uh so I totally didn't disappear for almost a month haha what? noo that would be stupid...

You’ve just got home from school after 8 tiring hours of classes and classes repeating after one another and it seemed like it'd never end. It also doesn’t help that you lived about an hour of public transport away from college, and no, you didn’t have a dorm room because your girlfriend had separation anxiety. So to say you were exhausted was a tiny understatement. 

No, your head was pounding and spinning at the same time, your whole body was sore, muscles pulling and straining under layers and layers of skin and your eyes were half closed, almost asleep but you kept going. Your education was not only important to you, for your future but also your family. So far, you’re the only one to make it to uni, and though you were proud of yourself, it was kicking your ass hard.

You dropped your backpack somewhere in the house as you made your way to the kitchen, immediately reaching for a hefty mug and filling it up with black coffee to the brim. You scoffed quietly to yourself when you realised there wasn’t enough for a second round, but quickly moved past it, deciding to just grab an energy drink from the refrigerator later on.

You made your way to the kitchen table, almost stumbling over your thrown down backpack on the way. You didn’t pay any mind to the small drop of coffee spilled on the floor and picked up the heavy bag, dropping it on a chair by the table and sitting on the one next to it.

With a loud thud, the mug landed on the wooden table, the sound echoing through the empty house since your girlfriend was still at work. You cleared your throat and sniffled a little, it was cold outside which made your nose runny. You unzipped your backpack and took out the needed books and notebooks and soon got to work.

But it wasn’t long before you were down half a mug of coffee and your heart was thudding in your chest, echoing in your ears which made your head hurt even more as you tried reading the words on the page of a book in front of you, hands clenched into fists on the table as you proved to be unsuccessful. 

Your eyes watered but you pushed the tears back, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you took another large sip of the black coffee. 

But even you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore.

It hurt.

It hurt so much and you were beyond tired and you wanted it to end. The endless day after day of waking up, going to fry your brain, getting home to do more and pass out on top of your books.

You wanted to cry and beg for it to be over, you needed it to be over. You couldn’t keep pushing yourself more and more towards reaching that point where you just can’t. 

Soon, tears flooded your eyes and out of them, falling on the paper in front of you which, in your panic, you frantically tried to push away so it wouldn't get wet. No need to add more stress to your day tomorrow with going to the library to get another one. It fell on the floor and you flinched at the sound, throat tightening up as you pulled your knees to your chest, forehead hitting the hard joints.

Your chest felt tight, stomach in knots as your head spun and your vision blurred, your own cries and sobs mixed with the loud thudding of your heart flooded your ears so much so that you didn't notice the front door of the house opening, Billie entering the house with a small smile on her face. 

“Honey, I’m home~” She shouted in a sing-song tone as she pushed her shoes off, stretching as she began to walk further inside. Though, she stopped in her tracks when your sobs hit her ears, her head snapping in the direction of the kitchen and she took quick steps towards the room.

Her blue eyes landed on your shaking, curled up form on the chair by the table and her pulse quickened with worry, heart clenching and brows furrowing. 

“Baby?” 

Her sweet voice snapped you out of your head and you looked up, eyes meeting hers. A lump formed in your throat once more at the worry in her eyes and you tried speaking but a sob came out instead.

Billie quickly walked to you, hands immediately on your face and her thumbs wiping your tears off your cheeks. “Talk to me” She murmured, chest just as tight as yours was feeling in that moment.

“I—...I can’t” You managed out, voice breaking and face crumbling as you began crying again. Billie rushed to sooth you, bringing her lips to your forehead, one of her hands on the back of your neck.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll wait” 

So she did.

And about half an hour later, she had brought you to the couch and you were on her lap, facing her with your face in the crook of her neck. Her shoulder was wet but she didn’t care, she held you close until the sobs stopped rocking your body, until the lump eased from your throat and your chest wasn’t so tight anymore.

Your head finally lifted from her shoulder and your eyes met hers, almost tearing up again. You waited a moment before finally getting your words out; “I’m—.... I’m so tired, Billie” Your whispered, broken words broke your girlfriend’s heart, and she herself had to hold back from breaking down. Instead, she let you continue as she watched you take a deep, trembling breath; “I can’t—... do this anymore” 

Billie nodded, arms wrapped tightly around your torso while her thumbs pressed into the flesh of your waist. “What, baby?” She asked, her eyes scanning the dark circles under your eyes, your pale skin. 

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip. “Everything” 

Billie pursed her lips, blue eyes gazing into your blood-shot ones. One of her hands raised, pushing your hair away from your face, then it stopped, resting on your cheek. “Okay…” She murmured. “I know,” She said again. “I know it’s hard, and you can’t keep this up… I worry” Your head nodded a bit and Billie sighed. “I’m serious, you’re taking the next half of the semester off. Okay?” 

There was a moment of silence, your chest rising and falling unevenly due to your sniffling. Then, you nodded.

“Words, baby” 

You took a deep breath and parted your lips. “Okay. I’ll take the next half of semester off” Billie’s lips curled into a small, almost prideful smile and she hummed, rubbing your back. 

“Good” She whispered before kissing your cheek gently “let’s get to bed, hm?” You nodded again at her question and stood up. She followed and took your hand, leading you to your shared bedroom.

Soon enough, you were snuggled up against her, much calmer now with your head on her plush chest while she had an arm around you. You felt her lips press onto the crown of your head and your eyes fluttered shut at the contact. 

“Rest, baby. I’m right here” 

Her whispered words added to the slowly growing comfort you felt all over your body in her embrace and all you did was nod one last time before your brain shut off, almost completely and you slipped into a deep, relaxed sleep in the arms of the only woman capable of making you feel anything like this. 

Loved. Comforted. Cared for.

Any of the bunch. And you were right there for her, too. Forever.

☏ a/n: aw dang it, it's shit again! anyway sorry for not posting, and now I forgot how to do this sooo ugh. but anyway @tan1shere , here is it, my apologoies if you're disappointed 😞

[riniworld]

your only one

sorcerer!oc x magic!student

warnings|| mention of an injury, blood.

reference|| you, y/n, use of them two times.

a/n|| yall i have been writing this since jun 29 😭.

you were only a child when you got abandoned.

in a world where magic is forbidden, you were born with it, how? you didn't know, not your father nor your mather had magic, maybe it's just the cruel rule of the world, or your bad luck.

you should have been dead, long ago, but your parents loved you so much, you think. they managed to take you out of the city before anyone can hurt you, you don't remember alot of the events, foggy memories, stormy night, a tall man and his words "run...to a better place, anywhere away from here." and silent. you wonder, did they ever told you that they love you? not that you care that much, at least.

now, after eighteen years, you're living with your master in magic, in a village filled with magicians, it's hidden with a spell so no none magic person can see it.

he's the one who found you in the wild, he helped you, giving you a life and a family, you had always seen aurelius as a big brother, but did he?

"Y/N! come on! wake up!" aurelius voice echo in the small house.

you stir a little as you open your eyes and roll on your back looking at the roof untill you come to your senses, today you'll work with your master after years of studying under him.

you hop out of the bed in excitement, you've been waiting for this day to come for ages.

you stretched your body,regaining your energy, before you can go to do your morning routine, you hear a knock on your door and before you can respond the person come in.

"he-ah you're awake? why didn't you say something?." aurelius said as he enters the room.

"good mornin' master,sorry, i just woke up." you say with a sheepish smile.

"figured so." aurelius chuckle, pointing at your state,and made his way out of the room "come quickly then, beofre the breakfast gets cold." he says before closing the door behind him.

you run down the stairs in a hurry, the delicious smell getting closer, making your stomach growl.

you see your aunt, aurelius mother, bringing the food on the table, you go to help her.

"good mornin' aunty." you say as you take the plates from her hands.

"morning dear." she followed behind you.

you put the plates on the table and sit down, across from aurelius mother.

"so where is master?" you ask when you didn't notice aurelius on the table.

"he got an emergency medicine request, so he had to go to the clinic." she said sitting down, "he said he'll-" she begin but you where nowhere to see.

you appear behind aurelius,it was one of the simple spells he taught you,teleportation.

"that was faster than i thought" he says without looking at you,mixing some ingredients in a bowl.

you walk beside him, watching what he's doing "it was supposed to be my first day working with you, you can't just come without telling me."

"it's not the work hours yet , it was an emergency." he says matter of fact.

"even though..." you mutter to yourself.

"but you're here anyway so mind bringing me a small bottle glass from there?" he points to a shelf filled with glasses of all sizes and shapes.

"..right away" you walk to the shelf and look for what he wants "to whom is the medicine anyway?" you ask.

"to salami's daughter, her temperature is high...again" he sighs "i told him to not let her tires herself out in using her powers but i don't know who's the stubborn one in them."

"poor girl." you say as you hand him the glass.

"you put it in the bottle, weren't you just whining about working,so here." he says as he walks to the side giving you space to the bowl.

your eyes lit up in excitement as you begin to put the medicine in the bottle,since it's magic, everything should be put carefully so as a starter that was much of a trust aurelius has put on you.

"be careful." he whisper, his breath tickling your side, you shoukd be focused on the medicine but you're hyper aware of aurelius every move, maybe because you're nervous..?...or is he a little bit too close this time?

trying to not mess this up,while at the same time aurelius's present is heavy for some reason, you take a scoop from the bowl and put it in the bottle slowly, then repeated this a few times until the glass filled to the top.

"excellent." aurelius praises you as soon as the glass filled, he took the glass from your hand,his fingers brushing yours.

"now, may you take the medicine to salami's house?" he say as he close the glass bottle with a wooden piece "I'll open the store."

"sure." you say in a distant tone, you're still thinking about his intimidated presence a moment ago, that was the first time you feel like that by aurelius.

the next days were heaven to you and hell to aurelius.

the work was easier when the two of you did it together, and you were enjoying every second of it, how can you not when it's your dream?

and aurelius was happy that you loved what you did, and you were very passionate about it too, but he can't shake the bothering feeling in his chest whenever you talked to a client, he wasn't stupid he knew that he had fallen for you long ago.

but when he glanced at you and saw you talking to another client, that's wasn't the feeling he's used to, it's something dark, it's sting, and hurt.

he tried to control it and he couldn't, it's too strong for him to just ignore it, a lot of voices in his head, and it certainly were not angles, but he won't listen to them, after all your happiness is more important..

or it was more important before the last straw hit him.

"doctor!" someone yell, it was followed by a loud thud.

when you ran out of the back room to see what happened, you were greeted by a man carrying an unconscious man on his back...and he was bleeding!

the man looked at you, he was panicing "y/n! where is doctor aurelius?!"

"put him on that bed I'll take care of him!" you said frantically.

the man did what you told him quickly, the other groan as he put down, you left his shirt up,inspecting the wound on his stomach, it wasn't that deep but it sure was bleeding heavily.

"what happened?" you ask the man while taking a cloth bandage it on the other's wound to press temporarily,then start moving around preparing an ointment.

"we were hunting and-and a wild boar attacked us out of nowhere" he explained.

"are you okay?" you look up at him from the mixing bowl worriedly.

"uh-y-yes, yes I'm fine,but my friend isn't."

"don't worry I'll do everything i can do to help him"

you make the ointment as fast as you can,while also trying not to make a mistake, it's not common for someone to get an injury here, the people aren't alot anyway, so it was rare that you see aurelius treat one, but good thing he did teach you how to anyway.

not 15 minutes before you finish it, then take it quickly to the patient,you take off the bandage and the cloth, taking another cloth to clean the wound properly before putting the ointment on his injury, very carefully as to not press on it.

you were focusing entirely on it before you hear glass shattering that makes you jump and stop, you look up to the direction the sound came from in surprise, only to see aurelius standing in the doorway, the shattering came from a jar he has dropped.

"what are you doing?" his tone was natural, but his gaze was one of madness, a man lying down, your hand on his bare stomach, how can he not be mad?.

before you can reply the man spoke "doctor aurelius! please my friend is injured!" the man was nearly screaming but aurelius kept holding your gaze, you don't know why his stare gives you chills, you have never been scared of him but now? now he's not him.

aurelius took all the work, he treated the patient and told his friend to take him home and that he's going to visit between days.

now it's only awkward in the clinic,you know he's mad at you,but for what?.

"mas-"

"go home, you need to rest." he cut you off, his tone leaving no room to argue so you nod and left.

'why am i that angry, it was my choice to teach them and making them work with me, but god that's only testing me.....what i did was wrong..yes i shall fix this, and start all over again'

he unlock a box,and take a book from inside «forbidden magic» was the title.

may the world forgive him but he needs to do this.

a soft knock on your door, it's late but you couldn't sleep,"come in" hoping it was your master, and for your relief it was.

"hey,wanna join me for a drink on the rooftop?" he was holding two cups in his hands.

"sure" you agree, it wasn't uncommon for you two to drink on the rooftop, not necessarily alcohol, but it was refreshing.

"are you upset with me?" you ask warily, as you take a sip from your drink.

"upset? no why would i silly?" he says with a smile, it sounded genuine so you smiled back, taking another long sip from your drink.

aurelius was talking, you can hear his voice, but you can't make out most of what he is saying, your head throbbing and you feel dizzy,you eyes blurry.

"are y-k-ay?" you made out a few letters from what aurelius saying but you couldn't stay awake long before you fell down, the last thing you felt was a pair of hands holding you and then everything is dark.

"ey- y/n? y/n!" you wake up at someone, calling a name, your eyesight got better and you saw who it was.

"aurelius?" that came out naturally, like you knew him, did you? you do...a few image of him appear in the back of your head, but who exactly is he? why you know him?..wait who are you?

"oh thank god, you're awake" he exhale in relief

when he saw your confused expression he returned it "why are you looking at me like that?" he asks

"i don't know...i don't remember anything." you say hesitatly.

"what you don't remember? you just said my name"

"i-..i didn't think..it just came out,i don't know who are you exactly."

for a moment you swear you catch him smiling but it disappeared quickly.

"oh my...the accident must have really affected you." his tone is filled with sadness.

accident?

"what accident?" you ask.

"it's not worth mentioning, that might only hurt you." you trusted him..for some reason you did, but you can't tell why.

"then who are you?"

aurelius smile softly and look you in the eyes "I'm your husband"

have a good day/night♡

[strrykais]

───〃★ his royal duty

contains mature themes (S)

♯┆pairing - bodyguard!changbin x princess!reader

♯┆summary - when rebels break in overnight into your castle, your personal guard changbin has his duty to keep you protected. hours locked in, in one of the safe rooms, you decided to take it upon yourself to finally jump on the chance to finally get him under you.

♯┆word count - 1.1k

♯┆author's note - heya guys finally put this out for ya! if you have any requests for written stuff dont be afraid to send in any asks !!

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

you could feel the way changbin was sneaking glances at you. it got you thinking maybe just maybe you can finally get him right where you want him after months of trying. you weren't sure if he was just ignoring you because of your status or he was just oblivious.

you disliked when your parents at first told you that you were going to get a personal guard, as the rebel attacks were starting to become more frequent. your parents were scared for your safety.

but when you first laid eyes on changbin you were almost thankful that the rebels were attacking. you did everything to get his attention, but your favorite was asking him to help you out of your dresses.

"don't you have maids for this?" he would always ask as his fingers lightly grazed the soft skin on your spine, sending shivers down your back. "i've sent them off, it's just you and i." you almost smile as you watch him shift behind you from the mirror.

now you watch him avoiding your intense eyes while you both wait out the rebel attack happening up above. at first you were upset that you didn't grab anything to completely cover up, but changbin quickly reacted by giving you a thin blanket to cover up.

you could help but smile at the situation he always tries to get out of, you alone with him.

"changbin, i'm pretty cold. maybe we should huddle for warmth."

watching him squirm in his seat across from you, "i'll let you take mine." he gently lays the blanket over the table for you to grab.

"do you repulse me that much, where we can't even touch?" now you were kind of pissed, you were clearly obvious with your intentions.

changbin rolls his neck, "look princess, that can't happen so whatever scenarios you got going on in that pretty little head, it's not gonna happen." leaning back on the chair crossing his arms.

you smile, you stopped listening "so you do think i'm pretty."

"is that all you got from that?"

"come on, one time. i obviously won't tell anyone, and nobody would know. you literally have a princess on her knees asking to have sex with her."

"it doesn't look like you are on your knees." he says, spreading his legs further as if telling you to get there.

you were on your feet in an instant, walking over to him. he stops you before you kneel down, grabbing the blanket on the table and placing it down for you. "i can't have a princess on the hard floor."

positioning yourself between his legs, you were buzzing your whole body vibrating with anticipation. you knew you wanted him badly but you both have even begun and you could feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. you slowly reach out pulling at his pants, eager to take them off.

as changbin lifts his hips to help you lower them, his dick slaps against his abdomen, which brings a smile to your lips. "looks like i'm not the only one who is feeling excited."

before letting him get a word out you reach out to grab the base of his dick, kissing at his tip. licking the pre-cum dripping out from his tip. he sucks in a breath as you slowly lick the vein from his base to tip, engulfing him whole as he reaches the back of your throat.

changbin was trying so hard to not hurt you, letting you bob your head as far as you can, while using your much smaller hands to rub the part that could not fit. changbin could take it anymore, mumbling a sorry gripping your hair shoving your face further down, while completely standing up now thrusting hard into the back of your throat.

"fuck, its so nice having you shut up for once. just s-stay there and take it, princess."

gripping the back of his thighs, moaning out around him. changbin never talked back, or even questioned you, always so submissive, but now you were seeing this different side of him. the ache between your legs was getting to be too much, reaching down to try to relieve that pain, changbin pulls you completely off of him. you gasp, eyes shooting open staring up at him.

"did i say you can touch yourself, princess. hands behind your back before i punish you." following his orders. "open up pretty." you did exactly what he asked. changbin didn't even give you time, as he shoved himself down your throat. your nose hitting his lower stomach, changbin hearing you gag around him only fueled him to speed up.

"fuck baby im gonna cum." changbin starts to pull out of your mouth only for you to reach out and pull him back in, sucking and bobbing your head. "fuck." he moaned out as he came.

changbin slumped down onto the chair, head leaned back, eyes closed. taking this opportunity you climbed into his lap, position yourself over him as you sink down. his eyes pop open when he feels your warm walls sucking him in. rocking your hips slowly against him, you start to bounce on him. changbin groans, wrapping his hands around your waist, helping you bounce faster on him.

"fuck you are tight baby, sucking me in so nicely." he says lifting his hips up to match your movements.

you lean down to plant a kiss on his lips, chanbin leans up to meet you. moaning into your kiss, changbin kisses down your jaw, planting kisses onto your neck, lightly nipping at it, scared to leave marks for your parents to see.

you could feel your climax approaching, burying your face into changbin, legs getting tired. "i'm gonna cum."

"cum for me baby, god please cum for me." he says breathlessly trying not to lose himself in how perfect you fit around him. like you were made for him.

"fuck changbin oh my god." you screamed out, legs becoming jelly as changbin holds you up,, the feeling of you pulsing around him, brings him over the edge as his movements falter and with his last stroke he buries himself deep into you. you can feel his cum filling you up, causing you to moan out.

"damn if i knew your pussy was this good, i would've taken your advances long ago." he says out, patting your hair softly as you come down from your high.

you laugh out loud lightly hitting his side, "so you were playing dumb." 

permanent taglist: @hyunestrella @spicy-sawdust @charlieg1rl @gnabnahcbby @totheseok @mystverse @jisungs-iced-americano @kimseungminpabo @bookswillfindyouaway @puppy-minnie @katchowbbie @night-storm7 @auroratiseee @goldenmellow @sellomaybe

[m4rv3l-girl]

Despite you being the love of his life, bucky has gotten cold lately, he was like ice, reader can't help but think did he lose feelings? Why was he sleeping on the couch instead of snuggled up to your chest?

Bucky noticed readers doubts and it broke him, he didn't know him to explain that the nightmares was driving him crazy, every night he dreamed about his metal hand circling your throat and it was destroying him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he hurt you but seeing you doubt yourself was worse that anything. He loved you so much and he had to remind you.

He was due for a Misson but called in sick but still kept his distance from you, and that night you got up for water and you heard bucky on the couch whisper no please, come back to me and you rushed over helping him out of his nightmare and he jumped back from you at first and then instantly seeked out your warmth and he held onto you and explained everything and apologised and that night all was settled, bucky sleeping soundly on your chest while you stroked his hair

I need this to hurt then fluffyly put me back together plz

Love your writing! Keeps me entertained🫶🏻🫶🏻

Cold To the Touch

Warnings: Major angst. Fluff at the end.

The first time you noticed the change, it was subtle—an absent-minded kiss goodnight that landed on your cheek instead of your lips.

At first, you brushed it off, telling yourself that Bucky was simply tired. After all, he had been pulling long hours at the compound lately. But as the days stretched into weeks, the distance became impossible to ignore.

Bucky had always been affectionate—almost overwhelmingly so. He loved wrapping himself around you, nuzzling into your neck, whispering soft reassurances about how you were his everything. But now? Now, he barely touched you. The man who once clung to you like a lifeline was slipping away, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had done something wrong.

The final straw came when you woke up one night to find the bed empty, his side cold. You padded into the living room, heart sinking as you found him curled up on the couch, a thin blanket draped over him. You stood there for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall in the dim light. He looked peaceful, but the sight tore you apart. Why was he out here instead of next to you?

The doubts crept in like poison, filling your mind with every insecurity you thought you’d buried. Did he lose feelings? Was he regretting being with you? Tears pricked at your eyes as you quietly retreated back to the bedroom, leaving him undisturbed.

Days stretched into weeks, and the gulf between you and Bucky only seemed to widen. It was like trying to hold onto a shadow—the man who had once been your sunbeam was now an enigma of cold silence. You tried not to overthink, tried to rationalize his distance as stress or exhaustion. But each time he flinched away from your touch, a small piece of your heart cracked.

He avoided your eyes like they might burn him.

If you reached for his hand, he’d find an excuse to pull away. When you asked if he wanted to talk, he’d mumble something about being fine and retreat to the couch. That couch had become your nemesis, the space he seemed to prefer over your bed, over you.

You tried to be understanding. After all, you knew Bucky carried a lifetime of trauma in his soul, and you were no stranger to his demons. But this felt different. This wasn’t the quiet contemplation of a man working through his pain. This was detachment—ice creeping into the spaces between you and freezing everything in its path.

You fought back in the only ways you knew how.

Cooking his favorite meals became a nightly ritual. You’d carefully prepare the tender beef stew he loved or the rich mac and cheese that made his eyes light up. But no matter how much effort you poured into the dishes, he barely ate, mumbling a thanks before retreating to his corner of the couch.

You left him sweet notes—simple things like, "I love you more than anything," or "You’re my favorite person, don’t forget that." You’d slip them into his jacket pocket or leave them on his pillow. But each note seemed to vanish into the ether without so much as a mention.

And then there was the red sweater.

Soft, cozy, and snug in all the right places, it was the sweater he used to tug you into while muttering, “My girl looks too good in this.” You wore it one evening, hoping he’d say something, anything. You had stood in the living room from countless minutes - no doubt in your mind that he’d say something, or smile even. But when he looked at you, it was like he didn’t even see you.

You started to wonder if he had just completely stopped loving you, if maybe you weren’t enough to keep him tethered. Doubts clawed at your mind, each one sharper than the last. Maybe he was falling out of love. Maybe he’d already fallen.

That night, you lay in bed, the sheets cold and uninviting. You stared at the empty space beside you, the hollow where Bucky should have been. And for the first time, the thought struck you: What if I’m losing him?

You felt tears sliding down your cheeks, hot and relentless. You didn’t bother wiping them away. It was easier to let them fall, to let the ache pour out of you into the quiet, unfeeling night.

Somewhere out in the living room, Bucky shifted on the couch. The sound was faint, but it cut through the silence like a knife, reminding you of the wall that now separated the two of you.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a wall you’d ever be able to tear down.

Maybe he’d found someone else. Maybe he was just too polite to tell you he wanted out.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Bucky, on the other hand, was crumbling under the weight of his own mind. Each night, the nightmares came without fail. They were vivid and cruel, dragging him back to a darkness he thought he’d left behind. But this time, it wasn’t some nameless victim in his metal grasp—it was you.

In every dream, his hand wrapped around your throat, your terrified eyes staring up at him as he squeezed. No matter how hard he fought to stop, he couldn’t. The sight of your lifeless body haunted him long after he woke, the phantom sensation of your skin under his metal fingers making him recoil in disgust.

He couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t be near you, couldn’t let the monster lurking inside him have a chance to hurt you. So, he distanced himself, even though it tore him apart. Seeing the hurt in your eyes every time he pulled away was worse than any punishment Hydra could have devised, but he told himself it was better this way. Better you were sad than dead.

One night, Bucky was supposed to be preparing for a mission. Instead, he called Steve and told him he couldn’t make it. His voice was strained, and Steve didn’t press. He couldn’t tell you the truth, though. Instead, he avoided you entirely, claiming he wasn’t feeling well and retreating to his usual spot on the couch.

That night, you lay awake again, staring at the dark ceiling. The air felt thick with unspoken words, the silence stretching until it became unbearable. With a heavy sigh, you decided to get up and grab some water, hoping the cool liquid would soothe the ache in your chest.

As you approached the living room, you heard him before you saw him.

“No… please… come back to me…”

Your heart clenched at the broken whispers. Peering around the corner, you found Bucky thrashing on the couch, his face twisted in anguish. You rushed to his side, kneeling next to him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Bucky, wake up,” you said softly, shaking him. “It’s just a dream. Wake up, love.”

His eyes snapped open, wild and unfocused, and he jerked away from you as if your touch burned. For a moment, you thought he might run, but then his gaze locked onto yours, and something broke inside him. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached for you, pulling you into his arms like a drowning man clinging to a lifeboat.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, doll.”

You held him close, your fingers threading through his hair as you whispered soothing words. “It’s okay, Bucky. You’re okay. I’m here.”

He shook his head vehemently, his grip on you tightening. “No, it’s not okay. I’ve been pushing you away, and it’s killing me. I didn’t know how to tell you…”

“Tell me what?” you asked gently, pulling back just enough to see his face.

His jaw worked as he struggled to find the words. “The nightmares. Every night, I see myself hurting you. My metal hand… it’s around your throat, and I can’t stop. I wake up, and it feels so real. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk being near you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Bucky, you’d never hurt me. Do you hear me? Never.”

He shook his head again, but you wouldn’t let him look away. “You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. You’re not that man. You’re my Bucky—the man who loves me, protects me, and would do anything to keep me safe.”

His resolve crumbled, and he buried his face in your neck, sobbing. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, over and over. “I’m so sorry, doll.”

You held him until his tears subsided, your fingers tracing soothing patterns along his back. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a softness there that had been missing for weeks.

“I love you,” he said, his voice raw but steady. “More than anything. I’ve been a coward, and I’ll never forgive myself for making you doubt that.”

You smiled through your tears, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Bucky. But next time, talk to me. We’re a team, remember?”

He nodded, a small, tentative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. A team.”

That night, Bucky climbed into bed with you for the first time in weeks. He curled around you, his head resting on your chest as your fingers combed through his hair. For the first time in a long time, he felt safe. Loved. Wanted.

And as his breathing evened out and sleep claimed him, you vowed to remind him every day that he was worthy of that love.

That he was your Bucky - flaws and all.

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you enjoyed it, hun! 🫶

Requests Open!

[hotchnerwrites]

can you do toji? Like where he comes back home to see you but your gone and he would start to panic because he doesn't know where you are and wondering if you left him and the reader left to go shopping for groceries and we wrote a note for him and telling him we was leaving to shop but he forgot and thought we left him Completely until we returned to the house with groceries and Toji on the floor crying? 😼 I hope this makes sense this is my first time requesting this 😊

Running Errands, Not Away

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SFW fic, sad pathetic Toji, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, domestic fluff, panic attack, a couple of swear words

A/N: Thank you so much for your request @sleepypulm ! You were the first to ask so I'm extra grateful to you <3. I got a little carried away and I didn't expect to write so much haha. I tried to do both Toji and reader POV. I hope my illustration of his panic was atleast a little realistic, going off my own experiences. I really hope you like it!

(image found on Pinterest)

Toji Fushiguro fears nothing. Why should he? He is the infamous Sorcerer Killer, after all. Sure, he doesn’t have any cursed energy. But that never stopped him, in fact even the Time Vessel Association begged for his help. He has hunted many and beaten more. Nothing ever gets in his way. But then he meets you. It’s as if the deeds of his past melt away in your wake, and his sins lay forgiven. The heaviness he carried within him seems insignificant now. You somehow brought back warmth and colour in his life. Sometimes Toji lies awake at night wondering what he did to deserve you. He never figured out why you loved him. He could barely express himself emotionally. He was a broken man from the inside and he had done everything wrong to fix that- gambling, killing, shady deals. Yet you never begrudged him of his shortcomings. All you did was love him. Quietly and loudly, through actions and words, in public and in private. You introduced him to all your friends, dragged him along to Sunday brunches and even made those stupid little sandwiches for picnics in the park. He’d never tell you that he actually loved those sandwiches, despite his protests, each and every flavour.

Which is why this hurt. Worse than when he had almost been gutted trying to take out some Grade 2 sorcerer. Worse than having shards of glass shoved down his throat. Worse than anything Toji had felt before in his miserable life. He had come home after a long day and was looking forward to sleep, you, a cold compress, and food. Not necessarily in that order. The keys jangled in his large hands as he pushed the door open. He called your name - once, twice, thrice. 

That’s odd. No answer. 

You always fling yourself at him like you hadn’t seen him in days every evening when he got home. You’d talk his ear off about your day and steer him to the couch while you asked about his. He had gotten used to this routine and after an initial few days of sulking, he had even leaned into it. But there was only pin-drop silence today. Worry blooms in his chest. Toji tried to tamp it down as he slid his bag off his shoulders. Maybe you were just taking a nap and hadn’t heard him. Or you were in the shower. Yes- that had to be it. Why else wouldn’t you answer him? Unless…

Toji stalks towards the closest door - the study - and flings it open. Nothing but darkness. Obviously unused, he shuts the door and takes off towards the bathroom. He didn’t even bother with the kitchen, the lights were off and only the fridge hummed gently. Nothing in the bathroom either. Toji’s heart was pounding now. That only left the bedroom, and he wasn’t liking his odds. He could see no light coming from underneath the door, but maybe that didn’t mean anything because, of course, you’d turn the lights off when sleeping… right? No such luck. Panic gripped him fully. Toji slowly makes his way over to the bed. The mattress bows under his weight. He can’t stop himself spiralling now. 

You’re just late, that’s all. Probably traffic, work’s been crazy. You’re not the kind to just… leave. You wouldn’t do that, not to Toji. The fight you had last week over taking a trip abroad seems so inane now. Surely that wasn’t the reason. People argue, it’s normal. Maybe you’re at your mom’s. You’ll text him, or call him, or something. You probably just needed some space. Yep, that’s it. That has to be it. 

The silence in the house suddenly becomes suffocating. It pushes its way into his lungs and threatens to take over his senses. Is this what a panic attack feels like? Toji tries to breathe. It’s the first thing they taught him, even before he lifted a weapon. 

Breathe, control your body, control your mind. Panic helps no one, it only disrupts concentration. 

Well, fuck that, Toji thinks. None of his training mattered now. Not when- not when you were just gone. Toji checks his phone one last time. His wallpaper- the picture he took of you laughing after he fell on his ass in the snow- seems to mock him now. Nothing in his messages and nothing in his calls.

You’re gone and it’s my fault, Toji thinks. 

His breathing speeds up. He feels the weight of it all now like it’s crushing his chest. He slips off the edge of the bed, his wide shoulders shaking. His face feels wet and warm- Toji can’t even remember the last time he cried, not like this. His body heaves and his mind betrays him further- What did I do? What did I say? What did I not say? And then it comes down on him, all at once. The sobs he’s been choking down, his denial turning into sharp-edged grief. It feels like he’s stepped into some kind of quicksand and he’s drowning in the absence you’ve left behind. He doesn’t even try to stop it anymore. For once in his life, Toji lets himself feel.

------------------

You hum in tune to the music blasting in your ears. Balancing a checklist in one hand and a shopping basket in another, you take a final sweep of the grocery store and confirm that you’ve gotten everything. It’s your second anniversary with Toji. Last year, you both decided to go to the fair like a couple of lovestruck teenagers and shared a slice of cake (black forest with cherries on top, Toji’s favourite) to commemorate the event. This year, you decided to surprise Toji with a home-cooked two-course dinner. The menu consisted of lobsters on pasta and black forest cake. After paying for the groceries and bidding the cashier a good night, you drive home in the quiet evening. The orange of the streetlamps cast a magical glow on the streets and you marvel at the calm in the neighbourhood. A peaceful night in, you conclude. 

You grab the paper bags and head to your shared apartment. The keys jiggle in the lock and the door creaks open softly. You slip inside and kick your shoes off. The clock on the mantle tells you that you had accidentally stayed out later than planned so you hurry to the kitchen and begin setting things up. As you haul the fridge door open, you hear it. You freeze in place. Was that… a sniffle? Confusion floods your mind. As you cast a glance towards the door, you note Toji’s bag next to the shoe rack. He’s home already? But that means… was that Toji crying? You’re utterly baffled now. Following the source of the noise, you head to the bedroom. 

“Toji?” Your voice is soft but it seems to echo in the stillness. You take another step forward and scan the room. And then you see him- on the floor at the edge of the bed, hunched over, his muscular frame shaking. Your heart twists. You flick the lamp switch on and take cautious steps in his direction. 

“Toji,” you call again, firmer but still gentle. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even look up. He’s clearly in distress, although you don’t know why. His breathing is uneven and he doesn’t move. A sharp spike of fear courses through you, but you ignore it as you kneel beside him, placing a careful palm on the flat expanse of his back. 

“Hey,” you whisper, struggling to keep your voice steady. “What’s wrong, honey? What happened?”

Toji flinches at your touch and finally looks up. His eyes were lined with red and full of something you couldn’t place- Guilt? Despair? He stares at you for a long moment, as if he’s never seen you before. Your worry increases. You’ve never seen Toji cry. Ever. You can feel your heart breaking. Something must be seriously wrong and you open your mouth to ask him again but he interrupts.

“You—” he croaked, his voice raw from what you assume was hours of crying, “You came back.”

You’re even more confused now but you’re slowly piecing it together. “Toji,” you say firmly, wiping the tear tracks away from his face, “I didn’t leave, you silly man. I went out for groceries. Have you forgotten what day it is today?”

He shakes his head and his breath catches again- it’s like he doesn’t believe you, or won’t. You don’t know what’s worse. 

“I thought,” his voice cracks, “I thought you were gone. That my past, the things I did… I thought you had had enough. That I—,” You don’t let him finish as you pull him towards you, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. You feel Toji sag against you. His large hands come up slowly, and he clings to you as if you’d vanish if he let go.

You stroke his hair gently and murmur into it, “I’m here, Toji. I’m not going anywhere. I love you. I see you for who you are, and you can’t scare me off, I promise.”

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text… I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend, I know you deserve better than someone like me and I just thought that you’d.. found someone or something better, and that you’d just left me and I wouldn’t blame you but—”

“Toji, stop,” you command. Your heart aches. You had no idea he still had these insecurities and you feel guilt creep in that you haven’t been able to assure him otherwise. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true, all right? I’m not leaving you. I’d never do that. I love you and we’re in this forever, okay?”

He doesn’t respond so you you just hold him tighter, hoping that your embrace conveys the reassurance your words can’t.

“Toji, I left you a note. You didn’t check the kitchen, did you? I thought that’s where you’d go for a snack after a long day, which is why I left you the note on the counter saying I’d be out for groceries. Oh, you big fool, Toji,” you’re scolding him now, “All you had to do was take two steps into the kitchen. I had to run out for groceries, it’s our anniversary tonight!”

Toji’s stiffens in realisation and he pulls back slightly. Embarrassment flits across his handsome features and he wipes a large paw across his face as if to scrub away traces of the panic that had gripped him earlier.

“Anniversary, huh?” He grumbles now, almost sheepish. “You.. uh.. just getting groceries? I thought—”

You laugh, feeling relief wash away your fears. Of all the times he’d called you melodramatic, it turns out he was the drama queen. You’re grinning now, “I wasn’t leaving you. I’ve been planning our anniversary dinner for weeks! I guess I’ve got to make it up to you now.”

Toji’s face turns a shade of red you’ve never seen before and you lean in to plant a kiss on his downturned mouth. He sighs, but he’s not angry; just embarrassed at himself for not taking a second to consider other logical conclusions. A small giggle escapes you as you watch him pull himself back together.

“I… I’m sorry.” He says it quietly, his eyes cast downward. “I just… I didn’t know, and I freaked out, and I thought maybe... I don’t know... you were done with me.”

You soften at his words, brushing his hair back from his forehead gently before cupping his face in your hands, making him meet your eyes. You run your thumb over the faint white scar across his lips.

“Toji,” you say, your voice tender. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, all right? I don’t care how much you think you mess up or how much you doubt yourself. I love you, and that’s not changing.”

His expression starts to shift as he takes in your words, the tension in his body easing slightly, but his eyes are still filled with uncertainty. “You really mean that?”

“I really mean it,” you reply, your smile softer now. “And as for tonight—let’s just forget about the grocery disaster and make it special anyway, yeah? We’ll laugh about this in a few years. How a big lump like you panicked and cried instead of taking the time to read a piece of paper.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to gently grip yours as if holding on to that reassurance a little tighter, a smile slowly breaking through the wall of his insecurity.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I guess we will.”

thank you for reading! i appreciate any feedback. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. my requests are open. do not plagiarise my work and/or repost it anywhere without crediting me.

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 7

Mask

Your new friend has been busy.

The streets whispered tales of the Red Hood nowadays. How relentless he was. How merciless. How troublesome.

You loved it.

It's been so long since someone stirred things up. You grew weary of the usual suspects. When you live in Gotham - and are raised by Joker - you've seen everything. And when you've seen everything you grow bored quite easily. It was a delight to have a new party to help combat this boredom.

Red Hood was fundamentally different than you. You didn't have much to speak of when it came to morals, you just do whatever you please, whenever you please. He on the other hand was ruled by his morals. Driven by them. He overtook the drug rings just to stop them from selling to kids, sure he got money out of it but if that was the goal he wouldn't care who bought the product. Despite this, he aims to kill. No remorse or regret.

He fascinated you.

Today had been a lazy day. Slept in late, out all night. No business to speak of, simply tagging several billboards with spray paint. Graffiti relaxed you.

You shivered at the brisk breeze in the air. The temperature had been dropping recently, winter approaching. Soon you'd have to bundle up. You grimaced at the idea of having to cover up your fashion.

You stepped back to look at the finished piece you'd just graffitied. Blotches of blue and pink painted the Bat himself, his cowl forming two sharp devil horns. And of course a jagged frown to match.

"We're going for impressionist I see."

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see a familiar shade of red.

The man raised his hands. "Easy. I come in peace."

"Since when?"

"Since I need to talk to you."

You eyed him warily. You could just shoot him. His helmet is probably bulletproof, same as his armor. You holstered your pistol.

"Talk."

"You need to leave Joker."

"... Pfft-! Ha! That's a good one."

"I'm serious."

"I know, that's what makes it funny."

"Listen, I know you're loyal to him. But things are about to get very ugly very quickly. Consider this a courtesy call."

"Thanks but I'm a big girl. Nothin' I can't handle."

"You always did overestimate yourself."

There it was again. Familiarity. He acted as if he knew you.

"Alright, you want me to trust you? Start being honest." You took a step closer to him. "Who are you?"

"What?"

"You act like we've met before, but I think I'd remember a six foot something, built like a brick shithouse man in red. So spill it, who are you?"

"You do get the point of a secret identity, right?"

"Ugh! You're such a pain in the ass."

"Said the pot to the kettle."

You give up. This guy is a major headache. You haven't had this much snarky banter since...

No.

You eyed the man suspiciously. "... Take off the mask."

"You're seriously that desperate?"

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." You flexed your hand over your gun.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"Don't make me."

You jammed the pistol into Red Hood's stomach. Unfortunately armor plus muscle equals immunity. You both struggled for the gun, you could tell he was clearly holding back. He really didn't want to fight.

You both wrestled for a while, no actual malice present. No, this fight was more... desperate. You who needed to see his face, and him, needing to hide it.

All it took was one wrong move. One miscalculation. Red Hood hadn't been paying attention to his footing, too preoccupied with keeping you at arm's length. Before he knew it his heel slipped from the billboard walkway. You grabbed him.

By the helmet.

His dead weight combined with your pulling resulted in him landing harshly below you. His feet hit the ground with an echoed slam. There in your hands was the infamous Red Hood. Hollow and silent.

You gazed over the edge. There stood the man, black hair whipping violently in the cold wind. A streak of white stood out in the darkness. He stared up at you, a snarl on his lips.

You knew that face.

"... Robin?"

[danniloversugar]

(Bad grammar, Not proof read give tips 🙏)

11:00 pm

-----------

December 21st XXXX

———————

Gotham

`It was a cold winter night, the moon is shining brightly, illuminating every single part of the city. It's cold, very very cold. Why were you outside again? What was the reason? Why are you walking down this cold, dark streets of Gotham? Why? You were following a white rabbit and then- Oh, right...Dad Bruce Wayne, it's because of him. It was a cold winter night in the Manor, alone. Everyone was minding their own business. You? you were walking down the long hallway of the manor, your footsteps thud against the marble floor, you were following a white rabbit as it hurriedly hops away, it slowly disappears as it led you to a doorway, filled with voices from behind, you stepped forward. You placed your ear against the wooden door, you heard your father's voice. Talking to a stranger, a doctor? A police? You didn't quite see, nor can you quite hear clearly due to the door being shut. But all you could hear was... Dangerous, violent, and crazy. And the one thing you've never expect to hear one thing from your Father's mouth was... Arkham asylum, putting 'you' in Arkham asylum. Hearing that from him, everything starts getting hazy, blurry, everything around you is...Oddly moving. As your vision clears you see the white rabbit again, dressed in a small fine suit and a big blue checkered bow along with a monocle it always wore. Upon noticing the white rabbit, it hops and hops away once again, you didn't think twice as you started to follow it down to your own rabbit hole. Doom.

Now, back to where you are. It's very cold, you're cold, lost, and alone. You want Alfred's cooking, you want to taste it again...But you don't want to see them. You hate them. They're so mean. So rude. If they're in wonderland they would've been kicked out by now or for better, maybe the queen of hearts chop off their heads.

You stopped walking, you're very tired, your legs ache. You want to go back even though you hate them all, Damian must've still hate you for killing his other dog, it was so loud it's so annoying and it was SO mean for attacking the poor white bunny, he possibly couldn't have blame you for defending such an innocent animal! He should've not released it at the first place! It was not your fault that all Tim's files were missing, he lied about you destroying it! What a liar! He just hates you! He was ignoring you! And it's not your fault that there were small needles in Jason's sandwich! He was mean! Very mean! He pointed a gun at me! He deserved it! It was not your fault that Dick's equipments were all a bit...Unscrewed. It was not your fault he almost broke his neck! He kept defending Damian! You were hurt! He deserved it! And your father- Bruce, he was the most meanest of them all! He's harsh, very harsher than the queen of hearts. His heart must've been ripped out by the queen of hearts, maybe that's why he's been so cold to you! How cruel!

You huffed, a white puff of smoke formed due to the cold around you. Kicking a pebble, you sat down on the hard stone pavement. You're cold. You want home. No matter how much they hate you, or no matter how much you hate them. You want out. It was so cold... You should wait. Maybe someone will come for you, maybe Mama will come for you! That's what she always promised... When you're alone...She always will come and get you...Right? Maybe that's the same as before...You just have to..Wait. Yes... You're a good girl, you'll wait. You just..Have gotten... a little lost. A little patience wouldn't hurt. Would it? Right..Waiting...Waiting...And Waiting. You've waited until the clock strikes 12:00.

Unbeknownst to you, you're not quite alone. Someone is with you, A white rabbit, and a Mad Hatter.

[pancake404]

The False God's Limbo: BBI Catnap and Dogday

A little bit more of character information regarding the False God's Limbo.

Catnap/Theodore: After ten years of hunting down heretics, worshiping his only friend and God, roaming Playcare, slowly starving, and the cherry on top, the reminder of his past death with the Prototype executing him, Theo is a shadow of his original self. He doesn't feel remorseful nor pleased with his past actions as at the end of the day, they were just heretics that he had to deal with.

Catnap is cold, drained, reserved, and often described as emotionless. He has no issue speaking as it doesn't affect his throat whatsoever unlike before but he normally only talks when he feels he needs to. He doesn't care about most of the other experiments, and he especially stopped caring about the BBI Smiling Critters. To him, they're not the Smiling Critters, they are just other lab rats like him that just look like the Smiling Critters. Despite not caring though, Catnap is more than willing to threaten those that push his buttons.

However, when interacting with BBI Dogday, the heretic, Catnap decided that since he can't kill him or himself(or get out of the place), he might as well stick with one of the only familiar experiments. Though, he doesn't understand why Dogday is willingly dragging him with, it's not like he has anywhere else to go. Not only that, but he also does find that there are other toys that still have some devotion to the Prototype side and he figured that as the main devotee and priest, he feels like he has some responsibility in protecting them.

Essentially:

It's not that he is happy with what he did, he just doesn't have a reason to care. He behaves like a lost monster who has no purpose anymore.

Dogday/Samuel Lee(Sticking with this identity of BBI Dogday): After being pretty much either locked up(in this version, he had only his legs ripped off at a later time than the whole ten years) or witnessing the horror of what became the other BBI Smiling Critters, he feels a sense of failure that was placed upon him as his role as the leader but also, he doesn't want to experience any of that ever again.

Dogday when encountering Catnap imminently in the limbo, neither attacked each other but more of just stared, being unsure what to do. But after Catnap tried getting out...unsuccessfully, Dogday decided to snag Catnap and drag him along to check out the limbo further where the other toys are found. His feelings of Catnap/Theo are very mixed, he feels unsure, hurt, frustrated, sympathetic, but overall, he just wished it didn't turn out like this. He sees Catnap sort of like a loyal dog(ironic, I know) being thrown away like garbage after everything they sacrificed and were willing to do, which Catnap disagrees with. But either way, he views this Limbo as maybe a second chance for all the toys to try to move on without the threat of every toy for themselves in the factory. Though the question is if everyone else sees it that same way(spoiler, they don't).

Dogday is on edge though optimistic. He won't take crap but also has some personal nightmares(such as...you know, Chapter Three). He also doesn't want to fail at being a leader again which is difficult as there are...certain things that the other Smiling Critters(very much including Catnap) know about and therefore, they don't fully trust him.

Essentially:

It's not like Dogday isn't upset, it's just...the others(Catnap included) have reasons to not like him either. He also prefers forgiveness for a better way forward than constant battle of survival which is both made possible and impossible in this Limbo.

When thinking of their relationship, I've seen a lot of ideas such as never-ending fights and hatred over the other, a long time for forgiveness but eventually a happier ending, etc. But for this version, I'd say it's less of finally forgiving the other(mostly Catnap redemption and Dogday forgiving) but more of "Can we be friends this time?" sort of thing if that makes sense. Lastly, in this version, there are dirt that can be made for all the Smiling Critters.

Also, both are drained from the decade being in the factory and they're sort of more glad it's finally over.

[writing-whump]

Super sick

Dylan's high fever part 2. Dylan can't keep anything down, forcing Rip to some drastic measures. Emeto warning.

"-I have given him paralen and brufen and everything...no he won't keep it down, it has not effect-...then what am I supposed to do?"

Rip rubbed at his face. It was close to midnight and his eyes hurt. Which was ridiculous cause he didn't get tired. He blamed it more on the stress, the anxious squeezy feeling around his chest that got its hold on him since Dylan became all incoherent.

A quiet moan from Dylan's room got him quickly hanging up and hurrying back.

Dylan kicked the covers off himself, sweating through another shirt and was currently shivering. His eyes were open to slits and his hand was reaching out blindly. For him.

Rip sat up on the edge of the bed and took it. "Hey, hey, man, it's okay. I'm here."

"...where did you go?"

"I was calling your sister for the umpteenth time. No updates."

Dylan scrunched his face like the information was very complicated to understand. "Are they home yet?"

Rip sighed. He had been explaining it for the third time this night at the least. "The trains aren’t working, so they are stuck in Salzburg until the morning. It's just the two of us, buddy."

Dylan didn't seem alarmed, closing his eyes again. His grip on Rip tightened for a second which had his heart clenching again. It was way too weak of a grip to even call it that.

"How did I get into a bed?"

"You threw up all over the blankets, remember?"

Dylan shook his head, a tiny distressed noise making its way out through his clenched teeth.

"Shhhhh. It's alright. It's more comfy here, isn't it?" Rip held his feverish warm hand in both of his.

Keep him comfortable was the main advice he got. Cool Dylan down, keep him comfortable. Try to get him to drink the fever reducers and hope they stay down.

But Dylan wasn't keeping anything down and he seemed to deteriorate in front of Rip's fucking eyes. What kind of crazy flu was this? The fever hit so quickly and was so intense, not wanting to back down.

The hives were still present, but Dylan was too out of it to scratch at them. Or maybe they didn't itch, what did Rip know?

He reached for the cold wet towel on Dylan's forehead, adjusting it. There were small ones around his ankles and wrists and because he kept squirming, Rip had to adjust them a lot.

It was also challenging for organisation to replace them, since Dylan got all worked up whenever he couldn't feel Rip by his side. Contact in any way calmed him down.

Dylan's muffled moan interrupted his thoughts. He curled up on his side, around his stomach, one arm wrapped around his middle and tightening.

Rip shuffled closer to lean against the headboard and Dylan immediately rolled to him to press his face against Rip's tigh. There was a loud audible swallow.

Rip brushed Dylan's hair back, adjusting the towel to the side of his face. "Nausous?"

"Hurts," Dylan said, face turned into the fabric of Rip's sweatpants. He grabbed at the leg next, riding out a wave of cramps with a groan before relaxing slightly.

"We could try the pain meds again-"

Dylan shook his head immediately. "Won't stay down. Can I just sleep?"

"You can sleep, it's alright." Not that it was working, Dylan was too restless and kept tossing, woken up by his stomach.

Another 20 minutes later and Dylan still wasn't asleep. This was proper torture, Rip realized. Not letting him sleep and burning up like this.

"Come on, let's try the meds again," Rip said when he couldn't stand it anymore, sliding his hands under Dylan's back to prop him up against his chest.

He grabbed the glass with water and the pill on the nightstand. "Just one little sip, D."

Dylan didn't bother opening his eyes, eyebwords furrowed as he leaned so much as possible away from Rip's hand. "Don't wanna..."

"You have to. Please, D."

Dylan grimaced, like that wasn't a word he could stand to reject, cracking one eye open. He nodded and Rip quickly pressed the pill between his lips, following up with the glass.

Dylan took a small sip, tensing up, his fist curling into Rip's shirt.

"Try to keep it down for me," Rip pleaded, putting the glass away.

Dylan gave him a tight nod, but his face was clouded over with queasiness.

Rip held him upright, arms around his torso, careful not to put too much pressure. Because of the closeness, Rip could practically feel every reaction and move Dylan's body made.

The sick boy's breathing picked up, chest rising and falling rapidly. He pressed the side of his face into Rip's chest, lips in a tight line. His fist was still scrunching up Rip's shirt like he wanted to tear it to pieces.

And then the fight was lost. The gags came, tiny at first, just shakes of his body that grew in intensity. His chest was heaving soon after, with strength and urgency Dylan currently didn't possess consciously.

Total autopilot.

Rip reached for the trashcan on the floor, holding it under Dylan's chin just in time for the sip of water and the pill to fall out. The heaves were way too strong for that small amount and Dylan kept gagging for 2 minutes straight in empty.

Shaking from extertion, he fell back against Rip who thought his heart would soon burst out of his chest with anxiety.

As the night ticked by, Rip figured out another distracting technique. Stroking little circles on top of Dylan's forehead with his forefinger.

It gave Dylan something to focus on, it seemed, cause the little groans sounded more pleased than distressed, his face turning towards Rip as if to follow the movement.

Rip drew the little patterns around Dylan's eyebrows, his cheekbones, then followed into his hair, leaving trails inside the sweat.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this helpless.

...

Around 5 a.m. Rip couldn't bear it anymore. He kept imagining the road to the pharmacy, visualising it in head in detail. Staring at in in Google maps meant he knew exactly where it was and he came up with several ways on top of the buildings to get there.

Minimising any contact. It would be early in the morning, there wouldn't be a crowd and he could climb up the balconies and take the roofs just fine.

There was just the direct contact with the pharmacist to worry about.

But Isaiah said his shadow was in synch with him. And this was something Rip cared about so how could his soul, his heart and his essence stand in his way?

That boy was his whole fucking world now.

He waited till Dylan fell into a less than peaceful slumber, easing him down on the pillows and sneaking out from his hold. Took money and a bag on his back and opted for the window for the better ledge.

The whole mission couldn't take more than 30 minutes. It was shameful to death he had to gather his courage for the whole night to do it.

Climbing wasn't a problem. Vienna houses were so intensely decorated, there was always something to hold on to and once he reached the top, he could run almost the rest of the way.

It wasn't dark anymore, more of a morning grayness with first pink on the horizon.

Rip reached the pharmacy from the rooftop and scanned the street for people. It was sleepy and empty only one runner jogging nearby.

Rip waited for him to pass before climbing down. Normally, he would jump with the help of his shadow to soften his landing, but he didn't dare reaching for it.

All he could focus on was keeping it shut, tight, away. Suppressed as much as he could.

He stopped in front of the door. Held the handle emerassingly long time. What if this was the end? What if he hurt or killed that woman inside and ruined everything for this pack, for the Executioner?

What if Isaiah was wrong to believe in him? What if Rip was simply not someone who could be saved?

What if he was but this was pushing it? Was it too soon to try to talk to a human?

Worse even, what if Dylan had been wrong about Rip all along?

And maybe all of it wouldn't matter if Rip couldn't make himself get him some fucking medicine before his brain fried.

One more breath. Rip looked down and went inside.

...

Rip couldn't remember the way back. Or the talk itself. It was as if all sound was muffled, as if the world turned black-and-white. Colourless.

But he got back, climbed into the window in the living room. He had a bag filled with anti-nausea meds and fever reducers and aloe vera cream for the hives.

He managed to have a freaking conversation with the elderly lady behind the counter. Who had nothing but sympathetic smiles for him, like he was taking care of his brother for the first time.

Rip shut the window behind him. Sound was coming back to him and it was ringing in his ears. His shadow was a string held back too tightly, cutting blood into the palm around it.

He should hurry.

Shooting for the living room, he pushed the flat thin pill into his mouth. "Don't swallow. Let it dissolve. There you go. Hold it for half an hour and we can try the fever meds again."

Dylan's eyes were shut but he complied. Rip got him new towels for his forehead, neck and ankles.

He got it. Dylan would get better now. They were safe.

The ringing turned to shrieking in his ears. Rip dashed to the bathroom, closing the door. His shadow spilled out, covering the floor and the walls.

Rip pressed his palms against his cheeks. "What?! Happy now? What was so damn hard about it?"

He couldn't say. It was like he was outside of his body when he talked with the lady. The sound of his voice, the sound of her voice, it was lost on him. His vision was blurry. But somehow they communicated long enough to get what was needed.

His stomach turned fiercely and Rip fell down to his knees, heaving over the toilet.

His skin was itching. His thoughts were buzzing wasps in his head and there were snakes inside him, slithering out.

He gagged and heaved, not fighting the onslaught of what he couldn't even name. A wave of snakes got its way out, stinging his throat on the way.

...

Rip woke up to a warm hand on his forehead.

"Don't tell me you caught it so quickly?" Dylan croaked, voice shot from vomiting.

Rip opened an eye. He was lying on the rag in the bathroom, fingers clawed into it. His insides were shaking and he still felt nausous and pained and burned, but also weirdly empty.

"You-" he gagged, but swallowed it down. "You shouldn't be up yet."

"Finally not nausous. I took some paralen an hour ago," Dylan said with a relieved sigh. His cheeks were hallow and still pale, but he looked a lot more like himself already. "What's wrong with you?"

Rip squeezed his eyes shut. "...went to the pharmacy to get you the anti-nausea meds."

He didn't see Dylan's face, but the shocked gasp was enough. Then came the hand, too warm, palming his cheek. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have-"

Rip grabbed onto Dylan's hand on his face. "Don't- don't fucking say it. I am the one who's sorry. The whole night you had to- cause I-" Another gag, more forceful this time.

Rip forced himself up on one arm to burp over the porcelain rim, shaking all over.

Dylan rubbed the center of his back, tilting to the side woozily. "Shhhhh. It's okay." He propped his chin on Rip's shoulder, eyes closed. "We are okay now."