#and then she talked about self harming with something that had been giving her a lot of breakdowns ->

[olenvasynyt]

In the Azriel bonus chapter, Az leaves Rhys after their little fight and he says this: 

“He'd been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight ... tonight had proved he'd been right to do so.”

And then you know what happens?  When Az keeps away from Elain, and he goes to the training pit, he stumbles upon Gwyn.

I think so many things point to Gwynriel in this bonus chapter.  The shadows reactions to her are something people often bring up to support Gwynriel.  They are curious, they dance to her breath.

And I can talk more about how the shadows react, all of the similarities Gwyn and Az have with each other ( made a post about that already, link here!), the foreshadowing people like to bring up, the retconning SJM has done for Gwyn, etc.  But I feel like I don’t even need to mention any of those tidbits even though I think they are important.  

All I need to know is the bonus chapter (which is usually used to tell the reader what will happen in the upcoming book) starts with Elain, and ends with Gwyn.

We can also analyze how the chapter is set up, the transition from Elain to Gwyn, the stark contrast between the two interactions and the feelings Az experiences, and we can compare a few sentences that are alike to understand what SJM might be trying to do. So I want to simplify what happens and focus on Az’s feelings throughout the BC.

It starts with him restless and filled with lust and desperation.  There is a constant looming feeling of self-harm almost because Az doesn’t take care of himself.

He found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer, and he stumbles upon Elain. During his time with Elain, we get this lust, self-hatred, guilt, desperation.  He doesn't want to taint Elain with his presence. He constantly says this is wrong, it’s a mistake.  

He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her.

Wrong—it was so wrong.

And then Rhys interrupts and we see anger and spitefulness from Az.  He is defensive, he is in denial.  

"So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her." Azriel snarled softly.  "Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."  Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage.

And when he leaves, he goes back to this kind of self-harm because he goes and uses cold to numb his feelings.  

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.

He felt nothing.  Was nothing again at all.  A way of self-harm, and it brings out his self-hatred that we saw before.  We continue to get these feelings of disappointment and regret when he says that he was right in avoiding Elain, and we see him have feelings of temptation, rage, frustration, and writhing need.  And he goes to work off these feelings.

He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work of the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.   He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him.

And then we get to Gwyn.  We see his interactions with her and how he has a bit of empathy and maybe pity, but also amusement—he can’t help his soft chuckle. He also opens up to her and drops a very important personal bit of information, something Azriel almost never does.  

"Do you, though?" she pressed. "Sing?" Azriel couldn't help his soft chuckle. "Yes."

And we get him working off his temptation and rage and frustration but in a way he didn’t expect.  He was planning on doing it alone and probably in the same sort of way we see with how he sat in the cold by himself: he uses pain to dull his feelings.  But instead of doing this, we see him help Gwyn with her training.  And we see a change in his emotions: his shadows, aka his inner voice, end up calming.  The restlessness in him eases.  He feels content and calm around Gwyn, even after what happened with Elain and Rhys.

Ariel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling in him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch.

I truly don’t understand how people take this as Gwyn manipulating Az with her “lightsinger” abilities.  Because he starts with so many negative emotions, and walks out calm.  The restlessness in him eased.  That’s nothing nefarious, it’s a good thing!  So many sentences when he’s teaching Gwyn show that this is a good thing.  

So we see this switch in his emotions.  But let’s also talk about the several sentences that contrast with each other in the bonus chapter.  

We have a sentence that contrasts with the one I brought up before of him flying and making himself so cold he gets numb so he doesn’t feel anything.

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him. Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.

"Again," he ordered, rubbing his hands against the cold, grateful for its bracing bite and the distraction of this impromptu lesson.

When he left Rhys, he was nothing, and the cold made him feel nothing.  But during this lesson, he’s still cold but he’s a teacher to Gwyn.  He is something.  He has a healthier way of coping with his feelings when he’s with Gwyn.

He also says this to Gwyn:

“Happy Solstice," Azriel said before aiming for the archway into the House. "Don't stay out too much longer. You'll freeze."

This is adorable and ironic and sweet and ugh...such a good little nod to the details SJM brought up before.

When Azriel leaves the training pit, we get another sentence that uses “he found himself” in this bonus chapter:

Before it was, “He found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer.” And at the end of the BC we get, “Instead, he found himself at the library beneath the House of Wind, standing before Clotho as the clock chimed seven in the evening.”

SJM is using identical phrases to kind of draw a circle in Az’s journey throughout this bonus chapter.

 He finds himself at the library, and the chapter ends with Az thinking of Gwyn smiling and something sparks in his chest…it brings a smile to his own face.

She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.  Something sparked in Ariel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason . .. he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

And that last sentence: a thing of secret lovely beauty…that was used before when describing the necklace that he gifted to Elain but she ended up returning.

The golden necklace seemed ordinary- its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

The way this chapter flows, the way we compare these moments of him with Elain and him with Gwyn; the way we see how his emotions change…t’s so fucking important.  And I truly feel like this bonus chapter is just screaming to us that E/riel is done and Gwynriel is endgame.  

The chapter starts with Elain and ends with Gwyn.

(I did a three part series of my thoughts and analysis of the Azriel bonus chapter and this post is a summary of part 3! Shameless link for some shameless promo lmao)

#pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #azriel shadowsinger #acosf #should I tag pro gingers? #Pro gingers #anti e/riel

[john-get-the-salt]

Packed Lunch (w/spencer reid)

Imagine: One morning Spence is in a rush to leave for work and forgets his lunch. You know he gets cranky when he gets hungry, so that only leaves one option.

Contains: secret relationship becoming not so secret anymore, funny Rossi, cute domestic Reid

It'd been exactly 39 minutes since Spencer left for work and you hadn't moved a muscle, standing and glaring at the bag sitting on the counter. It wasn't that the bag itself had offended you, as it was in fact just a harmless brown paper bag. What did offend you, was that it wasn't with Spencer like it should be. The packed lunch was no good if Spencer didn't pack it with him to work.

He'd been in such a rush leaving that morning that he zipped out the door without it. Whenever he stayed the night at your place you made sure to pack him a lunch, knowing that he wasn’t always the best at caring for himself.

Forgetting to bring lunch wasn't usually a big deal for most people. You knew that the federal building where he worked had a cafeteria.

But this was Spencer Reid you were talking about. And Spence hated the cafeteria food. On the occasion he forgot his lunch he'd just go the entire day living off coffee and whatever snacks were hidden in his desk. Then he’d go back to either his apartment or yours, starving and with a nasty headache.

This meant without his lunch he would most likely not be eating today. And as you thought about how stressed and overworked he'd been lately, that did not sit well with you.

So it was decided. You would drop his food off.

He was just in the office for the day as far as you knew, so you were moderately sure you could just leave it with the front desk or something and have them take it up to him.

The two of you had been dating for several months but agreed to keep it secret from his coworkers for now. Spencer was adamant that in his line of work he could never have any secrets, and for once he wanted to have something all to himself. You couldn't even begin to understand how he did what he did, so that was an easy request to grant.

You had since then discussed telling his co-workers about your relationship as you two became more serious, but the right time hadn't come up yet. Plus it made you giggle when he told you the tales of his co-workers trying to set him up or making fun of his lack of romantic life.

This all meant you couldn't just stroll into the building and announce to everyone that you were dropping food off for your boyfriend, Spencer Reid. You would need to quickly and discretely drop the food off and then be gone without a trace.

No harm in that at all. Right?

You quickly got dressed and grabbed the lunch. Living within walking distance of the BAU headquarters was extremely handy, especially today. It was a nice day and you enjoyed the weather as you walked.

It only took about 15 minutes before you were pulling the doors to the government building open, immediately being hit with a rush of cool air. The inside was full of people who looked like they really meant business in their fancy suits and stern faces. You sudden felt self conscious in your normal ‘civilian’ attire, and scurried up to the front desk to get this over with.

The lady at the front desk seemed disinterested, and barely looked up when you stopped in front of her.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi, yes. I was hoping I could drop off this food for my boyfriend. He works here and forgot it this morning and he always gets cranky when he's hungry and-"

"Ma'am we don't deliver food."

"I know I just-he's going to be hungry and I can tell you what department he works for and maybe someone could run it up to him real quick."

She pulled open a binder from her desk, sighing heavily. "Can I get his name and your name?"

"Oh, um, his name is Spencer Reid, and mine is but I don't work here I'm-"

"Here. You're already a registered visitor."

She handed you a clip on badge with Visitor printed on it in big bold letters. "Give that to security, then elevators are to the left and there's a directory on the wall. Have a good day."

Before you could even argue she was dismissing you and addressing the person in line behind you. So you forced your feet to move and head towards security. You felt like a fraud walking amongst agents and other government workers, and you kept your gaze down to avoid eye contact. After your purse got checked and your visitor badge got scanned you shuffled to the elevators.

You paused in front of the directory on the wall, squinting at the dozens of names listed. Where the fuck was the BAU?

You must've looked as confused as you felt, as someone stopped beside you.

“Ma'am? Do you need help finding something?"

You turned towards the voice, coming face to face with a kind-looking older man.

"Oh! I do actually, if you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, what department are you looking for?"

"Um, the BAU?"

"Well I can definitely help you there."

He pressed the elevator button and the two of you waited for a moment before the doors opened and the elevator emptied. He gestured forward and you gave him an appreciative smile before stepping in. He followed along with a few other people. It remained quiet as the elevator rose and stopped at occasional floors, people getting in and out.

Eventually it stopped at floor 6 (totally making this up idk) and the man announced this was the stop.

You followed him off the elevator and onto a floor that was still busy, but nearly as much as the lobby. Straight ahead, down a little hall, were a set of glass doors with BAU printed on the front. You chewed on your lip as you stared the door down, contemplating.

How were you going to casually drop Spence's lunch off without creating suspicion? You couldn't exactly just walk right in and hand it to him without people questioning who you were.

"Can I help you find anyone in particular?"

"Oh no that's okay, you've helped plenty. I don't want to keep you from your business."

"Please, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't help?"

This was so not the plan. But what other option did you have? You hadn't accounted for this scenario, you were positive you wouldn't make it past the front desk. But now here you were, and you needed to make sure this food got to Spence. Plus it probably wasn't smart to aimlessly wander around an FBI building. With your luck someone would think you were a terrorist or something. And you were not a terrorist.

"I didn't think you were, but my confidence in that is now wavering."

Oh my god. You said that last part out loud. To an FBI agent.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I did not mean to say that out loud. I swear I’m not a terrorist. I have this terrible habit of saying dumb things when I’m nervous.”

Could this get any worse? All you wanted to do was drop your boyfriends lunch off and now you were talking about terrorism with an FBI agent.

To your relief, the man just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, I’ve heard plenty worse. Now who are you looking for?”

At this point you were ready for the earth to just swallow you whole and you were deeply regretting ever leaving the apartment.

“Spencer Reid,” you said simply as you held up the bag in hand. “I have his lunch.”

“Spencer? He’s just through these glass doors, follow me.”

At this point, you didn’t care who saw you. You didn’t care that it sounded like this man knew Spence, and may or may not think you are a terrorist.

You just wanted fo give Spence his lunch and get the fuck out of dodge.

Following the stranger through the glass doors, you found yourself in a much quieter area. The entrance led out onto a catwalk from where you could see clusters of desks below you and a little coffee bar against the wall.

"I'll just set the lunch over here-"

"(Y/N)?"

You looked up at the voice and found your boyfriend standing below you at a desk, a concerned look on his face. He left the group of people he was standing with and jogged up the steps towards you.

"Hey, is everything ok? Did something happen? Are you ok?" His eyes were wide with concern, words coming out fast as he glanced over you. His hands automatically reached for yours, something the two of you did without thought.

"I'm fine, my love. You just forgot your lunch," you held up the paper bag. "I tried to drop it off at the front desk but the lady just gave me this pass and told me to bring it up. Then I almost got lost but this nice guy stopped and helped but I was so nervous I accidentally said something about terrorism and I know I shouldn't drop by unannounced but I also know how cranky you get when you're hungry and I-"

"(Y/n)," he cut your anxious rambling off, smiling in relief that everything was ok. "Thank you."

You smiled back up at him, relieved he wasn’t upset. "You're quite welcome. And I must say I feel so official with my badge even though I absolutely do not belong here."

He laughed. "I think you fit right in."

"Well I-"

"Reid?"

You both froze and became suddenly re-aware of the current setting. You looked up at your boyfriend with wide, worried eyes.

Spencer sighed, though that dopey smile of his remained on his face. "I think our secret is out."

He intertwined his hand in yours and together you turned towards the voice. Standing with varying looks of confusion and smugness were a group of people you recognized as his co-workers.

"Who's this?"

Spencer cleared his throat. "Um, guys this is… my girlfriend."

You gave a hesitant wave, trying not to shrink under the intimidating gazes. The office was quiet for a moment, before someone else burst into the room

"Did Reid just say girlfriend?!"

"That's correct, babygirl," one of them spoke up. "Pretty boys got himself a girlfriend."

The blonde gasped, before rushing forward and grabbing you into a hug.

"It is SO nice to meet you!"

You laughed as you hugged her back.

“It's lovely to meet you too, Penelope. All of you.”

She released you and you turned towards the rest of the team.

“Spence is always showing me pictures and talking about you guys, I hope you understand us wanting to keep it quiet for a while. But I've been really looking forward to meeting you."

A man with a stern look in his eye stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Aaron Hotchner," his eyes seemed to soften as you shook his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

That broke the rest of the team out of this trance and they all gathered forward to formally introduce themselves. You shook everyone's hands and giggled as they ogled at the fact that Spencer had caught himself a girlfriend.

You learned, with a laugh, that the man who'd helped you find your way was in fact David Rossi, one of Spence's coworkers. I’m your anxious mess you hadn’t recognized the man.

You explain to everyone that you were just dropping off Spencer's lunch, but you weren't getting away that easily.

Penelope and JJ convinced you to stay, and you all spent the lunch break sitting around a conference table chatting. Hearing stories about Spence on the job had you cry laughing and you happily indulged his friends in some stories of your own.

The entire time Spencer kept a tight hold of your hand, smile never wavering as he watched his favorite people laugh together.

His family.

#Spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #x reader #Reid #bau #bau imagine #criminal minds bau #Fanfiction #fanfic #imagine

[romanarose]

Scars

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x pale!fem!reader (see immersivity warnings)

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: You and Joel are taking things slow, really slow. You find that he's easy to open up to about your depression, but you find it's hard to tell him the full extent.

Warnings: Talk of depression and self harm, self harm scars, descriptions of said scars (healed, not bleeding or recent) piv sex, oral f!recieving. Comfort sex. first time between couple, not loss of virginity.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, no specified age. This is a fic i started last year when i was doing very, very poorly and relapsing. I wanted to write something for myself. I usually really try to make things as inclusive as I can but the descriptions of scars are detailed and they are detailed to my skin, which is pale. I'm sorry, but I wanted to write this for myself. I support people writing fics specific to themselves, their skin tone, their hair type, their wieght etc, as long as it's labled right. @fandxmslxt69 said i could do it and said if anyone has a problem, come to her <3

***************

"And the scars remind us that the past is real" Scars, Papa Roach

Joel hadn’t minded when you said you wanted to take things slow. He didn’t mind one bit. Being a dad of a preteen , albeit an easy one, didn’t leave him with much opportunity to move fast. He was busy. In fact, he hadn’t really intended to date at all, at least until Sarah was in college if that… but you had sparkled your way into his life accidentally, and he was trying his best to balance it all. You were understanding, patient, you didn't get mad if he had to rearrange plans or cancel because something with Sarah or work came up, and he thought things were going well. You were beautiful, fun, and the few times you’d briefly met Sarah, she seemed to like you. That was a necessity. Joel absolutely refuses to date someone that made Sarah unhappy, but Sarah had made a few references to him and dating before he met you anyway, so she seemed okay with it. It wasn’t like he had a relationship with her mom, as much as Joel had tried to foster something… her mom hadn’t been interested.

Tommy was a lifesaver. When he noticed Joel had been struggling, Tommy sat him down and asked to help him. Tommy asked Joel. 

“You deserve a life.” Tommy had insisted.

“Sarah is my life.”

“Joel, you deserve m-”

“Don’t say I deserve more, Tommy. Sarah is enough. I don’t need more.”

Tommy sighed. “I know, brother, but can I at least help you out a bit? Give you a little free time to see that pretty girl of yours?”

Tommy had only met you once, but he liked you too. Joel acquiesced, letting Tommy take care of taking her to soccer practices (but he would NOT miss a game). This did end up being a big help and Joel had more and more time to see you… and when Tommy took Sarah out for a movie or she had plans with friends, he found more and more time alone in the evening with you.

Joel didn’t want to take his hands off your body the first time you and him made out on his couch, but when his hand went to feel up your breasts, you noticeably tensed. Fearing he overstepped, Joel quickly pulled back and apologized. Both of you nervous messes, it took a moment before you and Joel got full sentences out.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“No no it’s okay!”

“I just thought-”

“And I want too-!”

“No, I didn’t mean for anything tonight-”

“Oh, uh, right-”

“Not that I don’t want to!”

“Me too!”

Eventually, Joel clarified he was just enjoying feeling you, he didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything ‘like that’, and you explained he can touch you like that, you just wanted to wait a little bit… You sat back, nervous, but figured now was as good a time as any. 

“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, if we could…” You shuffle on the couch.

Joel looks nervous, but open. He wants to know you, good and bad, and if something was bothering you, he wanted to know. “Of course, I’m all ears.”

You take a deep breath. “Do you know what depression is?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I have an aunt with it but we don’t really talk about it much… Sometimes Sarah’s school sends her home with pamphlets… so I know a little, I guess.” That’s not what he was expecting.

“Well… I have it.”

“Oh.” He says again, dumbly. “I'm sorry. Or… am I not supposed to say that?”

You can’t help laughing a little. He was sweet, and he was trying. “It’s okay, Joel, and thank you. Well, about 6 months ago I started therapy and started taking an antidepressant, and things have been a lot better but… I need you to understand, things can get really dark for me sometimes and… it can be a lot for other people to deal with. I promise, it’s nothing dangerous to others!” You quickly add when you see his confused face. “It’s just, sometimes I’m not myself… and, if that’s not something you can handle, I want you to know that’s okay.”

Joel sat there for a moment, looking at you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what depression was… but in the South, it wasn’t like they talked about that sort of thing much. Still, he liked you… he liked you a lot, actually, and he wanted to be there to support you. He couldn’t just run away from difficult times, not when he had a preteen. It would mean he wasn’t fit to be there for Sarah…

“I wanna be there for you.” Joel assured you, to your growing smile. “I may not know how to, but I wanna try my best.”

You smile more, and scoot up next to him, in turn Joel lays an arm around you. “Thank you, Joel”

Still, you were nervous… because Joel hasn’t seen you without sleeves… nonetheless without clothes. 

*

In the end, it was almost 4 months before you had sex. Physically, you’d taken things slow, but emotionally you hadn’t at all. You were in love, and you’d both told each other as much. Tommy had given Joel shit for committing to a girlfriend without having sex, but Joel had told Tommy he could talk after he got an actual girlfriend, not hookups. Still, Tommy wanted to provide a good opportunity for Joel to fuck you the way Joel would want to. Sappy and romantic. So, when Sarah’s favorite band Halican Drops was coming to Housten, Tommy offered to pay for them to go and for a hotel. 

Joel had tried to protest, saying it was too expensive, saying he wasn’t sure he wanted Sarah that far away, and that he should just come, but Tommy smacked him on the head.

“Dumbass, I’m giving you a night with your girlfriend!”

When Tommy promised not to have a single drop of alcohol, text every hour, not let her stand by any men, call when they leave the venue and get to the hotel ETC, Joel allowed it to happen. Sarah was ECSTATIC, being the first concert she’d ever been to, and although a teeny bopper band wasn’t exactly on Tommy’s dream list, he was excited to be a cool uncle. Also, Joel needed to get laid. He was getting cranky at work.

The night itself was a lot of fun. Joel took you to a nice restaurant, and after you came back to his place and changed into more comfortable clothes, you’d spent the night watching American Idol. Joel was very critical.

As the night progressed, your nerves grew as you knew where the natural progression of the night would take you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fuck Joel; you really, really wanted to. And you weren’t nervous about him. You knew Joel would stop if you said stop. What you were nervous about was your body. Joel looked good, but he had a bit of a stomach himself so you didn’t think he’d be worried about your shape or small imperfections… Joel was a gentle soul, kind, loving. Yeah, that wasn’t the worry. The worry had been on your skin.

In the middle of winter, you’d managed to not show much skin around him, with jackets and long sleeves and pants… but it was inevitable. Joel had been a wonderful support to you these 4 months, holding your hand, listening to you when you cried. Slowly you opened up to him about the circumstances that meant you needed extra help, and he was everything you could ask for. 

But how would he react to this?

Joel had you laid out on the bed, both of you still dressed and his pajama covered pants grinding into your warm cunt. Joel sure liked to take his time. 

“We don’t gotta do noth’n, you know that right?” Joel muttered into your neck, drunk on you but still being respectful like the gentle man he was.

“I know”

He pulled back. “Then why’dya seem so nervous?”

You look up at him, wide eyed and nervous, but you needed this… you needed to tell him the truth. “Joel…”

He got off you, standing up at the edge of the bed. The massive, rock hard erection in his pants couldn’t have been comfortable, but his willingness to stop anyway meant a lot. It was a low bar but it was there.

“We can stop, I’m sorry-”

You sit up on your elbows. “It’s not you, it’s just um… I should tell you something before we start…”

“Okay.” He was few on words, but he looked receptive.

You weren’t sure how to do this, how to open up that conversation… so you decided just to show him. Lights still on, you begin to take off your shirt.

Joel tried to stop you. “Hey, hey, no, let’s talk.”

You smile at him. “We will, Joel, just… let me show you…” After the shirt was off, you slid off your pants and laid on the bed, spread out and close to naked in a bra and underwear.

“Jesus, darl’n…” Joel mumbled, taking in the sight before him. 

Scars littered your body.

It wasn’t a few, it was a lot, and the coverage was significant. Joel’s eyes roamed your body, cock softening quickly despite your near-nakedness and took in the expanse of the scaring. Your thighs were the most noticeable, pink slaves across your skin from the hips to mid-thigh. His hand reached out instinctively, but pulled back. You noticed.

Your voice was soft, reassuring. You knew he was confused and curious. “You can touch me, it’s okay.”

He does. Joel’s fingers a feather light across your skin, feeling the way the scars dipped and raised depending on severity. There there cuts, but also burn mark; small circles from cigarettes twisting up the patterns more. It was all over, reaching back to the curve of your ass. His eyes followed the trail up and the cuts became less in intensity and number, but never stopping over your hip bone and to your stomach. These were lighter; less that split open the skin but the silver lines were still raised over the belly fat as his fingers touched you. Your bra-line showed more burns, and he stopped short of the cloth. 

You take his hands and guide Joel to reach behind you to unclasp the bra, allowing him to pull it up and reveal your breasts. His eyes water as he sees the scars never stopped, marring your breasts, although not nearly the horrific amount on your thighs.

“I don’t understand…” He mumbles, sadness and distress clear in his eyes. “You did this to yourself?” Joel takes your hand in his, examining the scars making a ring around your wrist. He kissed the inside, eyes threatening to pool over.

You nod. “Yeah…”

His voice cracks. “But… why?”

“Sometimes…” You start, overcome with emotions at the clear pain on his face. He loved you so much, the thought of you in this much pain hurt him as well. “It was all I could do to cope.”

He didn’t seem like he understood, but he wasn’t judging you. He didn’t look at you like a freak like so many others did. He just knew he didn’t want you to feel this way again. 

“I havn’t done it in a while.” You give him a smile. “You make things easier. I mean, I’m still… yeah… but you do make things much better.” He did. Having someone who held you, listened to you, helped pick up the pieces… it wasn’t going to cure you, but it was amazing how much support helped with the addition of meds and therapy. 

Joel relaxed at that, a relieved and gentle smile on his face. “I’m glad, darl’n…” He held you hand to his face, chapped lips nuzzling against your damaged skin. “”M here to take care of you now, okay? I wanna help.”

“You do.” You assure him, pulling his face down to you again and taking his mouth in yours. “You mean so much to me Joel, you make me so happy…” His body covers yours once more, his warm encasing you as he protectively holds you.

“You’re safe with me.” Joel mutters against your mouth, fingers digging into your soft flesh.

You pull him closer to you, grinding yourself up against him, enticing him again. “Still want you tonight, please? I can’t wait any longer.” It’s had been a long 4 months and fuck, fuck you wanted him, badly. 

“Always gonna take care of you, princesa.” Joel grinds his jeans-clothed cock against the soft fabric of your underwear, making you shutter. “Gonna take care of my pretty girl, always.”

And god, did he.

Joel’s mouth was sloppy, wet, hot between your legs. His tongue fucked into your hole, prodding you open and his hips bucking against the bed. Insatiable. Arms locked around your legs, his nose nudged against your clit as it seemed he was trying push himself as strongly against your body as he could, to devour you, to bring you and him the most absolute pleasure he could.

You tug at his hair, soft waves in between your fingers as you draw him closer to you. Warmth pooling in your stomach, you felt that pressure grow with every moan, every vibration, every sluuuuuuuuuurp! of your juices, christ he was incredible. You felt elevated, devoted too and adorned in affection the way you had always wanted to be. He was everything in this moment. Joel’s tongue slid up in a swift swipe, mouth and that pouty lower lip latching onto your clit with his fingers pumped into you.

“JOEL! J-ohhhhhh” Your cry for his name melted into moans as you came on his mouth and fingers, crushing his head between thighs as your legs bent. The power of your orgasm caused you to tense and then melt into the bed. You give a low hum as he kisses your inner thighs. As you come to reality again, you register Joel’s sweet kisses all over your legs. He’s kissing the trail of your scars. Joel kisses over the scars on your right thigh and up the crease at your inner hip.

“What are you doing?” You mutter, never for a moment fully let go of his hair.

“Appreciating every inch of you.”

Joel kissed his way up your torso, over the scars under your tits and over the mounds. Latching onto your nipple, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin. You can feel him smile against your skin when your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, Joel, your fucking mouth…” You whimper, and when his mouth lets go his hands never do. Softly, he touches you in all the scarred, squishy parts of you you were trained for so long to hate. 

He kissed you tenderly, gentle hands a contrast to his hungry mouth. That tongue, that goddamn tongue…

When he slides in, your eyes can’t help but roll back; your chest rises up against his broad expanse. He filled you so perfectly, fucking deep inside you and filling you up. You never felt so full. Your heart, your life, your stretched out cunt… every part of you was full and euphoric.

“My sweet, perfect girl…” Joel grunts as he pumps into you, hand braced against the headboard and towering over you. You gazed up at him, the yellow lighting of the ceiling fan created a halo around him. Joel looked positively angelic. 

Fitting, as he was your angel.

You were aware how he was perceived in his culésac. Joel was highly respected; kind, hard working if a bit disorganized. A good southern man who raised his brother and daughter well, helped the elderly neighbors, bailed his brother out of pinches and would use his truck to help anyone move. Yeah, people liked Joel. But they wouldn’t call him gentle, like how you feel his hands over your stomach. They wouldn’t call him soft like you felt his stomach against yours. They wouldn’t call him angelic, but that was all you could say as you came on his cock.

They certainly would not call him warm, but that was all you felt as you pulled out and sprayed ropes of cum on your stomach. 

You dozed off to sleep as he spread his cum around your scarred skin.

You vaguely register him cleaning you up, tired and content, and wait for him to join you again. His body felt perfect against your, fitting so well against your body like two puzzle pieces so close together. You had mumbled a request to be dressed, just in case Sarah and Tommy came home early, so you were both cuddled up in sweats under a thick blanket.

Everything with Joel felt safe and warm.

"Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going" -David Rossi, Criminal Minds.

******************

So, there we are. I'm very frustrated by the new bought of scars that are quite noticable that I have to wait to fade again but I refuse to be ashamed the way I used to. My scars are just scars from my trauma and illness. It's a moral failing of the people who have and continue to harm me, not mine.

Thank you all for reading, this was quite a venerable piece for me but I see a light at te end of the tunnel, and things will be getting better, I know it <3

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @yorksgirl

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fem reader #tlou smut #tlou #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #dads best friend joel #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou fic #joel #joel miller x reader smut #pale reader #f!reader #smut

[inkskinned]

in recent years, there's been a push in therapeutic circles to shift the language from "attention-seeking" to "connection-seeking" behavior.

i was an attention-seeker. i was the textbook example of an attention-seeker. i was a troublemaker. i would self-harm. i destroyed my own relationships. i was uncontrolled, dramatic, sensitive. i took everything personally. i had "nothing" to be depressed "about," but made a big show of how sad i was nonetheless. i was really unsafe about myself in a lot of ways.

the strange thing about that is: it meant others could ignore me. the prevailing wisdom behind knowing something is "attention seeking" is to say: well, since you want it that bad, you're not getting any. it meant i was lower-on-the-list of concern. it meant an eye-roll.

the belief was that: since i was obviously doing these things on purpose, it would be bad behavioral training if i was "rewarded" for it. it would "teach me" that i simply had to make enough fuss, and i'd finally get all that missing attention and love. no, it was better to ignore that stuff.

i was suffering. and it felt like - oh, it doesn't matter how loudly i am in pain, nobody gives a shit about if i'm living or dying.

awhile ago, i went through my journals from that time. a lot of them read the same thing. in them, i am convinced i am invisible. that nobody wants to hear me, to see me. that i could die or vanish and nobody would even notice. i didn't even want attention - not really - because it was always dismissive, mocking. nothing i ever did would be good enough to get someone to actually-worry about me.

that's a terrifying thing for me to read as an adult. that is a child who fully has no problem committing. that is a child who has no concept of feeling loved. the most basic human instinct is missing from her life.

i needed help. i didn't know how to ask for it. i was a kid. i was a kid in a bad home, and whenever i thought things couldn't get worse there - they almost always did.

and the ways i showed that - the ways i tried to deal with that - they made others dismiss me. i wasn't suffering prettily. after all, if i was really in trouble, why wouldn't i just march into the first counselor's office and ask someone to help me? i had the opportunities, right? what did i think would happen, exactly? that someone would finally stand up and do something? who even wants that kind of responsibility?

i heard connection-seeking for the first time about three months ago. my therapist mentioned it when we were talking about my history. it rang some kind of horrible bell, deep inside me. i don't know what she said in the rest of her sentence. i just started... crying.

"oh no", i said to her. "i think i just realized: i have no idea how to forgive them for minimizing the ways i was hurting."

how many other kids, though. how many other kids were out there drowning, snatching around for a lifevest, some kind of rope - how many were straight-up ignored.

how many of those kids aren't gonna get old.

#the thing i teach my preschoolers is #if something bad happens to u #and it hurts you #tell someone #and KEEP TELLING SOMEONE #UNTIL SOMEONE BELIEVES YOU #it is NEVER your fault for telling the truth #it is THEIR fault for not hearing you #if you are like me and ''attention seeking'' #please #if u can #GET HELP. GET THE HELP YOU NEED. #at some point we all have to do this on our own #it has to be our own personal work #but you DESERVE someone who will help you to do that work #a therapist a teacher a doctor whomever #YOU DESERVE HELP. #you deserve connection #and i love you #suicide implied #tw self harm

[bella-goths-wife]

The Vee's reactions to their platonic(parental for Val Vox maybe if you are feeling it?) pet seeking them out for affection after a breakdown? Just desperate for any comfort

Yandere Vs reaction to pet reader seeking comfort after a breakdown

Warnings: SA implied/threatened and mentioned, Valentino, panic attacks, self harm (hair pulling, using broken glass and arm scratching) hurt/little comfort, existential crisis mode, just poor Vs pet, abuse, punishments, dark content

Vox:

You didn’t know what brought it on honestly

One minute you were working with Valentino in the living room of the upper level of the tower where you and the Vs resided, and the next your feet are carrying you as fast as they could away from him

Maybe it was a mixture of things, val’s hand on your knee, the inappropriate sounds you were having to edit that you could identify as angel dust, his talking about how he wanted to hurt angel

All of it just mashed together to create an overwhelming feeling of pure fear

So you did what you were so used to doing when you were alive, you ran as fast as you could from the perceived danger

You could hear Valentino’s angered yells from behind you but your legs still carried you in the opposite direction until they took you to Voxs office

You assumed it would be empty since Vox had to be charging at this time, so you entered it knowing that Valentino wouldn’t enter the office out of fear that Vox would see him

You collapsed on the floor and sobbed you heart out with painful cries as your fingers threaded into your hair and tugged painfully to get a feeling of pain that could ground you

But Vox was in the office, and he looked at the sight in front of him with a mixture of parental concern and anger that someone had disturbed his possession

He approached you carefully before crouching down to meet your eyes

He repeatedly asked you what was wrong but you couldn’t answer, it was only when he touched your arm did he get a reaction out of you as your eyes snapped up to look at him before wrenching your arm away

This confused and concerned Vox but he didn’t have time to decipher your reaction before you practically pounced on his crouching figure and wrapped your arms around his middle as he fell backwards

(Think when jinx and silco first meet)

He stayed still out of shock for a few moments as you sobbed into his ridiculously expensive suit before he wrapped his arms around you and stroked your arm comfortingly

He pulled your face out of his chest and held your face in his hands before wiping away your tears with his thumbs and ignoring the crackles that came from your tears seeping into his technological body

You rant your little heart out but Vox completely zoned you out as he focuses on what this situation had made him feel

He felt concern sure, but the fact that you’d come to him to seek comfort and affection gave him a small thrill

You never gave him affection willingly unless he had given you drugs beforehand to make you calmer in his presence, so this just proved to him that you needed him

He made a mental note to make you work with Valentino more, if this was the reaction he was going to get

He may be concerned, but he’s cruel enough to ignore your panicked state if it meant you’d continue to willingly give him affection

Velvette:

Velvette had been especially cruel today

It was like she was purposely setting you up to fail just for her entertainment, the same way you pretend to throw a toy for a puppy and have them look back at you confused when they can’t find it

She purposely gave you the wrong coffee order for the models, she sent you into voxs office with unfinished paperwork and she had been verbally abusing you from the moment you entered the room

But something snapped in you after the two of you were alone for the night, she said something particularly cruel

“Maybe if you were a bit more useful then you could have lived to reach your twenties at least, but instead your down here because your molly infested brain was too useless to work out how to save yourself and the others”

Your death was a particularly sensitive spot, and usually the Vs stayed away from that subject because of your volatile reaction when you had to recount the story after hours of interrogation

And velvette had just pressed on it like it was a fresh bruise

Your breakdown started out of anger as velvette turned her back and you grabbed a tray of champagne glasses before throwing it against the closest wall

This shocked velvette to her core, she’d never seen you show such extreme and violent anger before

So she watched on as you destroyed furniture and glasses around the room before you knelt on the ground and sobbed

You were kneeling directly on the smaller shards of broken glass as you cried and grabbed handfuls of the glass and held them tightly in your palms

Velvette tried commanding you to stop in various ways but you just kept crying as the blood spread onto the floor

After ten minutes of watching you cry, velvette sighed and stomped over to you before slapping you harshly across the face

You stopped crying as you held your face in shock, but what shocked you more was the feeling of velvettes hand petting your hair in a similar fashion to how youd pet your dog

You felt yourself lean into her palm, desperate for the contact despite it coming from one of your abusers

Velvette hand trailed from your hair to your face as she gently traced the musical note markings that ran down your cheeks

You leaned into her palm before she grabbed your chin harshly and moved your head to observe the destruction you’d caused

“Clean this shit up immediately” she commanded harshly “then meet me in my bedroom”

You cleaned the room for hours and ignored the pain that it caused before you met velvette in her room where she removed the glass from your hands and knees before bandaging them and commanding you to sleep in her bed for the night

As she watched you sleep, she couldn’t help but think about what she had observed from you today

And she quickly worked out that one day she could use your anger to her benefit, and she planned on doing just that when the time was right

But sleep peacefully for now, pet

Valentino:

Your breakdown had happened the minute he forced you into his studio

Vox had put strict rules in place stating that you weren’t to go on there, but Val felt adventurous today

But that’s not what caused the breakdown particularly, it was the unedited video of angel dust playing on the screens

The video that showed his pained and fearful expressions

And the cherry on top was realising that the two of you were alone and that the camera was on and facing you

You mentally tried to prepare yourself for what you thought was going to happen, and you tried to dissociate from your body to avoid feeling his touch

But you couldn’t, panic filled your entire body as you bolted for the door but it was locked

Val just grinned his evil fucking grin

He hadn’t brought you here to assault you, even though he engineered the situation to imply that

He brought you here because he wanted you to capture your breakdown on camera after being told about them from Vox

He thought it would be funny to show the next time he and the other Vs had time to watch a movie, he knows both of them get so fascinated by the complexities of your emotions

You had started to violently bang on the door to see if you could free yourself but it was useless

Val simply sat on the chair near the door and watched as your fawn ears became pinned to your skull and you fell to the ground out of fear

Tears filled your eyes as you hyperventilated through the fears, and you brought your nails to the skin of your arms and dragged them down harshly to give yourself some pain to distract yourself from the panic

“Stop that” val commanded harshly when he saw the harm his toy was doing to herself “come here”

You walked forward cautiously as you sobbed and hyperventilated while holding your arms protectively over your body

“Sit” Val had commanded with a grin as you followed his directions

He grabbed your head surprisingly gently and laid it down on his fluff covered shoulder

You say crying and preparing yourself for the worst on his shoulder and Val just grinned into the camera

Until you did something unexpected and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and cried into his shoulder

Valentino sat there stunned as you cried into his shoulder until his hand came up to rub your back in what he thought was a soothing manner

You sobs increased at his touch but all he did was hold you for a few moments before getting up and turning the camera off

He then went and grabbed the bandages and wrapped your scratched up arms, all while having an expression of concern mixed in with confusion

“I’m sorry princesa” he said quietly as he wrapped your arms “it won’t happen again”

He gets up and unlocked the door and watched as you ran out and locked yourself in your room to likely continue your breakdown

Val watched his toy self destruct and it wasn’t nearly as fun as it was when he watched his actors do so

He almost felt embarrassed, shameful even. The same way he would feel if he accidentally damaged his expensive car in a way he knew couldn’t be fixed with a simple paint job

Maybe it was your touch that made him feel this, the touch of someone he didn’t have any romantic or sexual interest in

He looked at the camera and felt a deep sense of disappointment hit him

He wanted anger like you had with velvette or emotional pain that you had with Vox

But all he received was fear and all it filled him with was a sense of boredom and shame

He was bored if fear from you, he wanted a more complex reaction

And he’d get it out of you somehow

Tag list so far :)

@buttercupfangirl @repostingmyfavs @the-faceless-bride

#hazbin spoilers #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin adam #yandere vox x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #yandere valentino #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #yandere velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #carmilla carmine #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla x reader

[minhosbxtch]

Waiting

Azriel x reader

Warnings: self-harm, language, starving oneself, thoughts of uselessness, slight suicidal thoughts

Come to my office. We need to talk, Rhysand spoke in your mind.

A bolt of fear went through. Shit, what did you do this time? Did he find out that you-

You're not in trouble. I just need to talk to you. He said, sensing your fear.

You made your way to his office, not bumping into anyone, thank the Mother. You were a nervous wreck right now, despite Rhys' assurances.

You creaked open the door to your High Lord's office to see him sitting at his desk, hands neatly folded in his lap with a soft smile.

"You called?" You questioned, still nervous.

"Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something," at your eyebrow raised, he cleared his throat and said, "I know about the mating bond between you and Azriel."

You froze. "You didn't tell him, right?" You whispered.

Rhys shook his head, "No. There are also wards around this office, so he can't hear a word we're saying."

You relaxed slightly until he asked, "Why haven't you told him?"

"Why did it take you so long to tell Feyre?" You shot back.

He raised his hands in surrender at your aggravated tone. "I just want to know. You seem withdrawn and a shell of what you used to be, and I just want you to be happy."

You slumped at his words. "I didn't want him to be shackled to me, especially since he loves Elain. He just seems so happy with her."

His eyes softened, and he sighed, "I know how it feels. You feel like you'd burden him with the mating bond."

"Well, there's that, and also I want him to choose me. I don't want him to just want to be with me because of the mating bond. I want him to love me regardless of the bond," you confessed.

He nodded and asked, "How long has it been since you found out?"

"Since Elain and Nesta became Fae," you ground out, wincing.

Knowing about the mating bond, you must watch him fall for Elain. He rescues her from Hyburn, giving her Truthteller, all the glances, their walks around the garden, and the happiness on his face whenever she showed up.

It was agony. You finally realized how Rhys had felt watching Feyre.

"Does anyone else know?" He asked quietly.

You nodded before saying, "Cassian and Eris."

"Eris? You told him?"

You shrugged and said, "He sorta guessed. When you and him were meeting in Hewn City and I was there he talked to me after and asked why I seemed like a shell. He guessed it was Azriel but didn't know we were mates until I told him. Cassian was a similar story. I made them both swear to not tell."

Rhys nodded in understanding, knowing your past with Eris. The two of you had been friends long before the incident with Mor and remained friends long after. You were the only reason he wasn't dead. No one else knew of your friendship with the Autumn Court heir but Rhys.

Eris had found you over the Autumn Court border, injured, and instead of taking you to his father, he took you to a cottage in the woods and nursed you back to health before helping you get back to the Night Court.

"Thank you for telling me. I swear to not tell as well."

You felt another tattoo form next to the two identical tattoos on your bicep. The tattoo was the same for each.

Rhys peered at his new tattoo and chuckled softly. It was a half of a heart mostly concealed with what looked like black flames.

You suppose that's what your heart felt like right now. Broken and burning in silent agony.

Rhys nodded at you and said, "Azriel should be coming in here in a few minutes if you want to slip out before he gets here."

You nodded your thanks and stood up to leave to get your training in for the day. Cassian had taught you ages ago and now expected you to train yourself now that he was busy training others.

You felt the mating bond grow stronger as it sensed Azriel coming down the hallway. You quickly turned around to go the other way before he could see you.

You practically jogged to your room and got dressed in your leathers and headed out. Cassian usually trained from breakfast to lunch and Azriel trained at night so you would be undisturbed.

You saw Emerie and Gwyn still out there from this morning, Nesta was nowhere to be seen. You gave them a quick smile as you went to pick up a sword. They both smiled brightly back. You liked and respected all three of them.

You didn't specially seek them out, not wanting to intrude. They had a special bond that you couldn't stand. It was nothing against them but when you hung out you always felt like an outsider. They had gone through things together do they of course would be close.

You channeled all of your anger at Azriel, at Elain, at the Mother, at the world into the sword as you swung again and again and again at the practice dummy.

When Cassian was teaching you he said it was a great way to get anger out and he had no problem letting you swing for the entire practice as long as you had good form. He would let you battle the dummy occasionally stopping you to correct your form. Cassian did the same thing with hand-to-hand combat.

He understood how therapeutic it was. He and his brothers did the same thing, just on each other. But he didn't want to be on the receiving end of your sword. When getting your anger off he volunteered to be the dummy. He could handle you easily with hand-to-hand combat, blocking your punches. But your sword was difficult for him. Your sword was just a fast extension of your arm, he received several scratches from being your dummy before he resigned.

After an hour you switched to hand-to-hand combat, your weakest spot. You were too lost in the routine to notice the sun was quickly going down. You just kept punching and kicking and punching.

You paused to catch your breath when you realized how long you'd been out there. You'd missed dinner from the sound of your stomach. Oh well. Wouldn't be the first time.

You went inside to go shower but as you walked to go to your room you quickly paused. The Inner Circle was all in the living room laughing and drinking. They looked so happy. Maybe you weren't needed. Maybe you could just leave permanently and nothing would change.

Then you spotted Elain with her head on Azriel's shoulder. Both of them looked happy. Something inside of you broke at that.

Instead of taking your usual route through the living room to get upstairs, you went around the back way so no one could see the tears brimming in your eyes.

You were numb. All the anger, the sadness, and the frustration were gone. You didn't feel the water as you bathed, didn't feel the clothes you put on, and didn't feel the blade as it tore into your skin again and again and again.

The only thought in your head was Dang at the sight of the blood on your arms, stomach, and thighs as you stared in the mirror blankly. Not caring you took a towel and wiped the blood off but it just kept coming.

You took another bath and wrapped your cuts. They were layered over steal healing ones and scars. You knew this wasn't good but you didn't care.

You got dressed and just laid in your bed until sleep pulled you under.

-'~{~}~'-

You woke up to the stinging and burning under the bandages. Bleary-eyed, you stumbled to your bathroom and pulled your shorts and shirt off to see the bandages.

You opened your cabinet that had the bandages in it and found that you were almost out. This would probably be the last change left. You didn't really care about dressing your cuts but if one of them accidentally opened in the night or the day you couldn't have anyone asking questions about if you were ok.

You would have to go to Velaris to get new ones. You also would have to make another excuse for what you needed. Maybe you could convince Cassian to drop you off.

You finished the bandages and put on leggings and another sweater. You could ask Mor but she'd probably make you try on a dress that was too revealing and might show the bandages. No, you couldn't have that.

After splashing your face with water, you headed out to get coffee. That was going to be the only thing you ate until dinner since you probably wouldn't get to skip today.

Mother, how did Elain do it? She ate normally and still remained the perfect size. While you barely ate there was never any change. How was she so insufferably perfect? She was as beautiful as a flower herself, incredibly kind, and perfect in every way. She couldn't blame Azriel for being attracted to her.

Poor Lucien though. Honestly, maybe you should just get with him and leave both Azriel and Elain in the dust.

You knew neither of you could do that but it was a nice wish though.

On your second cup of coffee, Feyre came in and smiled before digging into a breakfast of biscuits and pastries.

"Do you want any?" She asked, between mouthfuls.

"No I already ate," you lied with a smile.

She nodded and smiled back before going back to eating.

Honestly, all of the Archeron sisters were perfect. Nesta included. She might have been prickly at first but now she belonged there as much as her sisters did.

Well, you could ask Feyre to take you down to Velaris. She might have another painting class.

"Are you going down to Velaris today?" You asked your High Lady after taking another sip of coffee, black, it was bitter but it had fewer calories that way.

She paused her eating to offer, "Yes. Would you like me to take you?"

You smiled gratefully before answering with, "If that's not too much trouble for you."

"It never is. Just let me get ready first," Feyre responded kindly.

"Of course."

Suddenly Azriel came in and the bond between you both came alive in his presence. Clenching your teeth you filled up your coffee cup for the third time, keeping your back turned towards him.

Feyre gave you a questioning look at your reaction but thankfully Azriel didn't notice. You could hear Feyre and Azriel talking but paid no attention to your conversation and you watched your coffee fill up.

At a touch at your shoulder, you snapped around and winced slightly to see Feyre looking concerned before asking, "Hey, did you hear what I said?"

You blinked before saying apologetically, "Sorry I drifted off. What'd you say?"

"I asked if it was ok if Azriel came with us."

"No yeah, it's fine," you said despite the drop in your stomach. Maybe that was from hunger. You couldn't remember the last time you'd eaten.

-'~{~}~'-

An hour later, the three of you were in Velaris.

"Here I got to get to the studio so I'll see you later," Feyre said waving goodbye.

You waved back and turned back around to walk away before Azriel asked, "Are you okay? You've seemed off lately."

Mother wonder why. Maybe because my mate's in love with another female that's perfect as can be and there's fucking way I can even hold a candle to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired," you lied. You being tired was always your excuse. Well, it was telling the truth partly at least.

Azriel nodded his understanding before you walked away to look for things to disguise why you really came.

Unfortunately, Azriel still followed you as you weaved around the market.

That just meant you had to buy a shit-ton of other stuff to make it look like you came for another reason.

You went from store to store until you had three bags full of stuff you didn't need but wouldn't arouse suspicion. Two of your bags were full of books while the third held a couple clothing items.

With all the extra shit I bought bandages shouldn't seem too suspicious.

You went to the small store that you always bought from and got 4 rolls of bandages and some pastries. This store had everything from books to instruments to random alcohol. It might've been a little shady but oh well.

The only thing Azriel bought was metal cleaner and another dagger sheath.

With four bags full you were exhausted. You had to talk to way too many people today. You just wanted to go home and take a long nap.

Feyre luckily only had one class today and was done rather quick after getting a bite to eat. Thank Mother she didn't invite you. It would've looked weird if you didn't eat.

After she winnowed the three of you back you set the bags down, your arms tired. Azriel picked two of them up and helped you carry them to your room.

With him in front of you, you had to stay back far to not brush his wings.

"What the fuck is this," Azriel growled in front of you as he entered your room.

Fucking hell please no. Shit, shit, shit.

You in your tiredness forgot to throw away or hide the bloody towels from the previous night.

Azriel turned around and looked you over as if trying to find where the blood was coming from.

He took a deep breath and asked, "Where is all of this FUCKING BLOOD FROM?"

Your eyes widened. You'd never heard him raise his voice. Faking a calm image you just shrugged calmly and said, "I don't know."

Azriel's eyes burned into yours trying to assess if you were lying. You just held his stare, trying to act normal.

Oh Mother, he definitely knew you were lying. He was fucking spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadow of Death. Still, you played calm.

Instead of breaking the silence you just stood there, your stare cool and composed against his, burning with fury.

"Well this is your room so obviously you have to know," Azriel said coolly.

"Well I don't and you're right, it's my room, so it's none of your business," you hissed.

He threw up his hands in exasperation and yelled, "Well there's blood all over these towels and you're not on your cycle so what is it then?"

Thank Mother you shut the door.

"Get your damn nose out of my fucking business," you yelled back.

"Well you've been moody and now there's blood all over your towels and you haven't been at meals so just tell me WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"WELL THAT'S WHAT I'M TRYING TO FIGURE OUT YOU DICKHEAD AND YOU AREN'T HELPING," you screamed, tears threatening to escape.

He paused, "You haven't been... hurting yourself, have you? Right?"

You stayed silent trying to reign the tears back in.

"That's why you needed more bandages and why you winced when Feyre touched your arm why you've been covering yourself up and why you haven't been eating..." Azriel's voice trailed off as he looked back at you, "But why?"

The question lingered in the air for several moments before repeated more firmly, insistent, "Why?"

You looked back up angrily, and with the most emotion you've had in days said, "Because my mate doesn't fucking want me. He wants someone else. I've watched them fall in love for almost two years. Two fucking years I've watched and waited. Nothing changed. Nothing. Fucking Changed."

Azriel was shocked he knew you'd been off for a while but he'd just figured it was the war.

"Do you realize what that does to a person, Azriel?" You let out a bitter laugh and a tear slides down your face. "It tears you apart from the inside. You try so hard to hold yourself together but then you crack and the cracks get larger and larger until it consumes you. And then you're spiraling and you can't get out and no sees, no one notices. Do you know why? Because they're already happy. They have all they need. They're so blind with happiness that they don't see you drowning until it's too late."

Your face crumples, "And your mate," your voice broke, "and your mate... they don't give a fuck. They don't even notice you. You try so hard to be kind, and nice, and you try to be beautiful, to be skinny. Like the one he loves."

And then you break.

Your knees give out and you land harshly on the floor, sobbing. You tuck your knees to your chest and sob into your hands.

At first, Azriel just stands there, listening to your heartbroken sobs. No these were more than heartbroken, they were full of despair and hopelessness.

As he stared at you some part of him twisted in agony, flailed to be let out. He froze as he realized what it was. A fucking mating bond.

He was the one responsible for your sobs that wracked through your body. He was the one responsible for you not eating. He was the reason you thought you weren't enough.

He dropped to his knees in front of you and gently reached out for you. You didn't react until he pulled you into his arms, cradling you, letting you soak his shirt in your tears. You slumped in his arms, not having enough energy to resist.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and said, "I'm so so so sorry. I... I thought it was supposed to be 3 brothers and 3 sisters."

You didn't respond but your cries had become less violent.

He continued to stroke your hair and whisper how sorry, how stupid he was forever even thinking about Elain.

He felt you through the bond. Your sadness. Your hopelessness. Your self-hatred.

His heart broke at the thought that he did this to you. Your mate, who was supposed to love unconditionally, forever, did this to you. This wasn't even the full extent of what you felt, yet this fraction was enough to make him feel hopeless.

He held you until your cries turned to deep, calm breaths of sleep. He carefully picked you up placed you on the bed and kissed your brow before leaving.

He walked down to the kitchen where Rhys sat. He gave him a nod and said, "I know now."

Rhysand froze. Azriel couldn't speak the words so he let down his mental shields so Rhys could see.

After, Rhys remained silent, eyes wide.

The silence stretched on until Rhys said, "I knew," Azriel's eyes snapped to him in surprise while he continued, "I had a suspicion and then she confirmed it when I asked."

He held up his hands before Azriel could erupt, "She asked me to keep it a secret."

"Show me," Azriel demanded.

Rhysand relented and showed him everything.

Azriel rubbed his eyes before walking over to the kitchen where he made a plate of leftovers from last night and grabbed a glass of water before coming out and starting up the stairs.

"Oh and Az," he turned around, "you need to tell Elain about this." There was a look of warning in the High Lord's face.

Azriel pressed his lips together. He knew he would have to. It was inevitable.

"I'll talk to her later," he said while walking back up to his mate.

His mate. His mate that he'd ignored for the past two years as he pined after someone that had their own mate.

Mother, he felt awful.

Well, he deserved it.

-'~{~}~'-

You woke up alone in your bed.

How the fuck

Your thought was interrupted by Azriel, your mate Azriel, opening the door clearly struggling while holding a plate and a glass of water.

He looked up at you and saw you were awake and had noticed his entrance.

There was a long awkward silence until Azriel broke it by clearing his throat and saying, "I brought you some food and water."

You responded with a simple, "I'm not hungry."

"When was the last time you ate then?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

You just shrugged and repeated, "I'm not hungry."

"I don't care. You're going to eat this. I don't care if I have to shove it down your throat, your eating," he said tersely.

You two just stared at each other, until you sighed and took the fork, and began to eat.

Azriel visibly relaxed as you shoveled bites of mashed potatoes, mac & cheese, green beans, and chicken in your mouth.

"I also brought you this," he said quietly, motioning to a bowl filled with nothing but bread and a plate that had a generous slice of chocolate cake on it.

You started on the bread and could've melted at the taste. He had brought you every bread you thought the House could make. There was garlic bread, cheesy bread, rolls, sourdough, and various bread sticks.

You were in fucking heaven.

You almost offered Azriel a piece before remembering that wouldn't end well.

You were stuffed before you started on the chocolate cake, but that didn't stop you.

Once you were finished eating, Azriel spoke, "I'm sorry again. Just please give me a chance. This isn't just because you're my mate. I see you now. You're sweet and kind and funny and obviously a goddess-"

Before he could finish you had kissed him.

You kissed him hard and passionately after years of longing. Azriel reached up and gently cupped your cheek and brought you onto his lap to deepen the kiss.

There would be a time to ravish and worship you later. But right now he would show you how much you meant to him.

After you pulled away you closed your eyes as he cupped your face.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead he whispered, "I know how long you've been waiting and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for even looking in Elain's direction. I know there's no way to fully make it up to you but I'll try. If you want me to wait, I'll wait. I'll wait however long you want. I'll do whatever you want. Just to please you. To make you happy."

"I know full and well I'm not worthy of you," as you tried to protest he pressed a finger over your lips, "No, trust me, I'm not. First of all, you are kind and loving. You were kind to Elain even though it would've been easier to hate her. Second, you are gorgeous."

To help prove his statement his hands traveled up and down her body, not enough to make her uncomfortable, but enough to show he meant what he said.

"And third everyone loves you. How could I not? Hell Nesta loves you. Also, you're smart, sarcastic, funny, Mother I could go on." Azriel said counting with his fingers.

You smiled softly and said, "Preferably don't."

"Honestly I'm the one that doesn't deserve you."

Your eyes got sharp at that.

"Excuse you, I don't know where the fuck you got that idea from, but that's not true in the slightest," at his raised eyebrows you took a deep breath and said, "Let's see you're brave, witty, selfless, caring, smart, and an actual good male."

His eyes lightened with each word and with a smirk, he asked, "Can I get another kiss then?"

I mean how could you resist? He brought you food.

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[leossmoonn]

Hey do you think you could write about like the reader having an attitude when she comes home from work and mikey fucks the attitude out of her?

18+ under the cut - includes: cut to sex scene, unprotected sex. abby is like at a friends house or smth so dw just bc she’s not mentioned doesn’t mean she’s in the house

this is actually the worst thing i ever wrote im sorry but this is all i could give

you slam the door shut once you get inside. you kick off your shoes rather roughly, practically throwing your keys on the coffee table. mike looks to you, a little taken aback by your demeanor. usually he’s the one coming home throwing things and stomping around. it’s not like you’re a happy-go-lucky person, but you’re not one to be this upset about something unless it’s really bad.

and honestly, you didn’t know what you were upset about. it just seemed like today was the worst day in your entire life. you’d woken up late, didn’t get to eat breakfast, had the worst lunch ever, your meetings at work were a waste of time, and traffic was bad. the list could truly go on. so you weren’t really in the mood to plant a smile on your face and pretend like you weren’t irritated.

“hey, how was work?” mike asks. “fine,” you huff, walking to your shared bedroom. you change out of your work clothes, feeling as though they were suffocating and uncomfortable all day.

mike stands up from the couch, following you. “are you sure it was fine?”

“yes, mike!” you shout. “can you just drop it?”

mike reaches out to touch your arm. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you twist your arm out of his grip, feeling like every little thing could just set you off. “i said i’m fine.” you try to keep your cool, but you can feel anger bubbling up inside of you.

“you can talk to me, you know. i’m here for you.”

“i don’t want to talk!” you yell. “just leave me alone for fucks sake!”

mike blinks at you like you just killed somebody. “o-kay,” he says after a long pause. “sorry for checking up on you,” he mumbles.

you groan, “can you not play the self-pity, nice-guy card?”

“i’m not! this is genuinely how i feel! imagine if the roles were reversed. you’d be feeling pretty shitty, too, right?”

“no because i’d know to leave you alone,” you say matter-of-factly.

“well, i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“why?” you ask, ready to throw something.

“because i believe that you need to tell me what’s wrong so you can not have an attitude.”

“well, if you’re just going to pester me, then i’ll just leave.” you slip on a pair of slippers that are by your bed, grabbing a jacket and heading out of the bedroom.

“where are you going?” he asks. “anywhere but here!” you shout.

“you can’t just run away! you’re starting to act like me.”

“yeah, well, maybe i need to not be around you for a while, then!”

mike rolls his eyes at you, knowing you’re just saying all this because you’re mad at him for some reason. he knows he should’ve left you alone, but now the conversation has gone too deep for him to just give up.

as you put a hand on the door, mike grabs your wrist and yanks you back.

“let go, mike. i’m a grown woman and can do what i want.”

“which is precisely why you’re staying here.” he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowed with determination. his grip on you is tight, but not harmful. there are small beads of sweats lining his forehead and his cheeks are slightly flushed from becoming worked up. his eyes are wide and pupils blown out, meaning that he’s been thinking of you in some way in between your fight.

“make me,” you say lowly, in almost a whisper.

you’re on top of the kitchen counter now, sweatpants and panties scattered on the ground. mike’s shirt is somewhere in the living room along with his belt. his jeans are pooled around his legs as he leans against the counter. your nails are digging into his shoulders, head thrown back and rubbing against the cabinets. mike’s face is buried into your neck, pants and whimpers becoming muffled into your skin. his cock is throbbing inside of you as your walls clamp down around him.

“mike, oh! right there, yes!” you moan, your eyes rolling behind your eyelids. he’s balls deep inside of you as he hits that spot expertly.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good,” he mumbles into your shoulder. he can feel your heart thud in your chest as he presses up against you. the sweat on your bodies mix as he thrusts faster. you wrap your legs around his waist, seemingly pulling him in tighter, making him push deeper inside of you. your hands grip his hair as you feel yourself orgasm and you cry out his name.

you feel him come inside of you in hot spurts, coming to a complete stop as he finishes. you both groan as he slips out of you. he grabs a piece of paper towel and wipes up his cum that’s running down your leg.

you’re still huffing and puffing, savoring the feeling of the cold wood and granite on your back and legs. mike gives you a small smile and you lean down and kiss his cheek.

“not so stressed now, huh?” he remarks. you roll your eyes and punch his shoulder. “it’s just a coincidence.”

“mm, maybe i should try this next time then and see if it correlates,” he says.

“maybe you should.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader smut

[girlgenius1111]

trying to be cool about it

depressive episode reader + alexia bc its winter and women are sad. warnings for mentions of self harm and scars. be safe 🫡.

You'd woken up, immediately knowing it was going to be one of those days. It had been one of those weeks, really, but today everything seemed to catch up to you. Your whole body felt heavy, and even though you'd just woken up, you were already exhausted. Existing was exhausting. You fell into these ruts sometimes, a consequence of having a depressive disorder, but it had been a while. You'd forgotten how awful it made you feel, how hopeless. It was frustrating how clearly you could understand what was happening to you, without being able to think your way out of it.

Instead, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. You'd felt off for a week, and today was the day it took control. You knew yourself well, and you knew you wouldn't be leaving the house today. You'd be lucky if you got yourself into the kitchen to eat something. You didn't like missing training, but it wasn't even an option to go, so you rolled over, shooting Jona a quick text, telling him you weren't feeling well, and you'd be back tomorrow. He responded quickly, telling you to feel better.

You paused, deciding whether or not to tell Alexia. You'd been good about not letting her see you like this in the time you'd been dating. You'd been able to make excuses the last couple times it had been bad, and kept her away. This time, though, you knew she'd picked up on your low mood throughout the week, and she'd know something was up when you didn't come to training. You wouldn't be able to avoid her this time. You might be able to delay it, though, and maybe pull yourself together before she inevitably stopped by after training. That would only work if you didn't text her now.

It wasn't that you didn't trust her; you trusted her more than anyone. And it wasn't that you didn't want her comfort, because you did. You were sure that her presence, her touch, her smell, would be the only thing capable of making you feel marginally better. It was that Alexia was... Alexia. Hardworking, unrelenting Alexia. You knew she had her own struggles, but you always got so in your head when you were depressed. You knew you were sick, and your body was just trying to take care of itself, but every time you found yourself unable to get out of bed, or the house, you felt incredibly guilty, like the laziest person in the world. You didn't want Alexia to think any less of you, as ridiculous as that was. You didn't want her to see you like this.

So, you clicked your phone off, knowing that she would probably be frustrated that you didn't text her, but that at least she wouldn't be able to come over until after training.

There was one thing that you knew would make you feel better. It had been so long, though, and you didn't want to, not really. You ran your fingers lightly over the scars that lightly littered your thigh. The desire to make the despair, the numbness fade, even for just a little, was strong. Alexia was coming over, though. Alexia who you believed didn't know that you'd ever done this. The scars that remained were faint, and she'd never said anything about them. You grappled with the choice of whether to give in, or not allow yourself to fall. You rolled onto your side, shutting your eyes tightly, wishing you'd asked your girlfriend to come over.

-----

Alexia was an observant person, and she prided herself on knowing her team well, especially you. She knew you'd been down all week, and she couldn't quite figure out why. You'd mentioned having depression offhandedly a few times, but you were so cavalier about it, talked as though it was in the past tense, and so she didn't think it was something to be concerned about. She knew you took medication, but you'd always made it seem like it was more for anxiety than depression. If you were struggling, she assumed you'd reach out to her.

She wasn't sure she believed that you were sick, though. You'd been fine yesterday, and you had a great immune system. When Jona told her why you weren't at practice, she didn't buy it. Something was up with you, she just didn't know what. Jona caught her distracted gaze, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. He'd watched the Catalan fall in love with you, and quickly realized that she'd finally found something she put before football. He thought it was good, healthy.

"Go check on her. We don't play this weekend, you can take the day off." He said. Alexia looked at him, surprised, not aware that he could read her anxiety so well.

"The team-"

"-Will be fine. Go." He insisted. Alexia didn't wait to be told again, turning around and leaving the pitch. She changed quickly, and rushed to her car. As she drove to your apartment, different thoughts of what could be wrong with you swirled through her mind. The oddest part was that you hadn't texted her this morning to tell her. It set her on edge, and she sped a little on her way.

When Alexia walked into your apartment, she didn't find you on the couch like she'd expected, or maybe hoped. Instead, she followed the hall down to your room, peeking in through the partially closed door. You were asleep, tucked in all cozy, looking peaceful. Maybe you were sick, she thought, as she didn't know you to nap.

She moved closer, content to hold you until you awoke, when she got a better look at your face. Even in your sleep you looked tired, defeated, and she couldn't help the worry that grew at the sight. She lay down carefully next to you, but still, you woke, blinking at her blearily.

"Ale?" You asked groggily. "Supposed to be at practice?"

"Wanted to check on you, bonita. Jona told me you're sick." As you woke up more, she watched as your face got redder, and confusion continued to grow. You weren't leaning into her like you normally did, and if she wasn't mistaken, she thought she saw the glint of a tear in your eye.

"Just a little. You can go to practice." You replied, trying to sound better than you felt.

"You don't seem so good, mi amor. What's going on? What doesn't feel good?" She questioned, trailing a finger lightly across your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but you didn't answer, trying to think of a way to get her to leave without hurting her feelings. It was getting harder and harder for you to resist curling up against her.

"Bebé?" She asked, prompting you again.

"Bad day." You replied, avoiding eye contact. You weren't going to lie, but you weren't going to be very forthcoming with the details unless you had to be.

"Why is it a bad day?" She asked, still stroking your cheek softly. Her gaze was so gentle, it made you want to cry. In response, you shrugged, your lip jutting out a little as you fought back tears.

"Amor, what is it?" She pressed. She seemed desperate to help, to make you feel better, so you allowed yourself to scoot closer, leaning your head down against her chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around you without a second thought, pulling you in until you were completely surrounded by her.

"Okay, cariño, te tengo." She said quietly, pressing her lips lightly to the top of your head. You stayed like that, pressed up against her, for a while, until the lump in your throat had disappeared, and you felt more in control of your emotions. You pulled away, still not making eye contact.

"Ale, I'm fine, really. You should go to practice." Alexia was conflicted. She didn't want to crowd you when you needed space, but something in her was screaming at her to not leave you alone like this. She took in your facial expression, the way your jaw was set, as if you were trying hard to maintain the distance between the two of you.

"No." She said, watching for your reaction. You were getting close to tears again, and she could tell.

"Please, baby, I don't want you to see me like this," you begged, which only strengthened her resolve to stay with you. She wasn't sure what you meant by "like this" but she was determined to find out.

"I don't really know what you mean, and I don't know whats going on, but I'm not leaving. Mi niña bonita, I'm here for you, whatever it is," she told you tenderly. You didn't push her away, falling quiet, which she took as a sign of acceptance. Your eyes still shined with unshed tears, and you looked so upset, so defeated, it made her heart ache.

"Tell me what's going on, please, y/n," Alexia asked again. Her pleading tone got to you, and you sighed, shutting your eyes before responding.

"This just happens sometimes. My medication works well, but sometimes I just have episodes where it doesn't. It'll pass, you don't need to worry," you told her, very clearly trying to play down the fact that you were really struggling.

"I didn't realize it was that serious," she said, continuing on even as you opened your mouth to tell her it wasn't. "So it's... a depressive episode?" She asked, trying to get as much information out of you as she could. You still had your eyes shut, still wouldn't look at her, and she could tell you were embarrassed . You nodded, though, giving her an answer.

"Can you look at me?" She asked. You shook your head in response. "Why not, amor?"

"I'm sorry," you said, instead of answering her question, voice breaking slightly. "You shouldn't have to do this, deal with me like this. I'll be fine, I'll get through it, I always do." She had one hand resting lightly on your cheek, and still, you refused to open your eyes to look at her.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," she said firmly, "I'm sorry you're having a hard time. You don't need to be embarrassed, though, or feel bad for needing to take a few days."

"I hate being like this. Useless. I feel like such a failure," you replied, tears escaping down your face. Alexia wiped them away with the pad of her thumb, hating how self deprecating you sounded.

"You're not useless, you're sick. Like with anything else, you need time to rest and recuperate. You deserve time to rest when you aren't okay." You wanted to believe her, but you weren't sure you could. You didn't think she understood how bad you were feeling, how truly devoid of energy to do anything you were.

"I can't even get out of bed, Ale. I'm so exhausted, you have better things to do than-"

"No, bebé," she cut you off, her voice a little louder than before, causing you to finally open your eyes and look at her. Alexia looked upset at your words, and you didn't understand why.

"I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. Please stop trying to push me away. What are you so afraid of, hm?" She asked, voice returning to it's quiet volume from before.

"I just feel so guilty. Like I'm a bad person, like I'm dragging you down," you told her, tears falling more rapidly now. She shook her head in response, brow crinkling with concern as she continued to wipe your tears away.

"There's nothing to feel guilty about. You aren't a bad person because you aren't doing well, or because you need to take time to feel better. You aren't dragging me down, you could never do that. My place is here, next to you, even when you don't feel well. Especially when you don't feel well."

Alexia could tell you wanted to believe her, that you were trying, so she pulled you back into her, pressing your head into her chest. "You don't need to do anything, mi amor. Rest rest with me. I'll take care of you until you feel better, okay?" She told you, arms holding tight, letting you know that you didn't have much of a choice.

You'd told her more than you intended, yet still hadn't told her the worst of it. You couldn't decide whether you should or not. It was so tempting, snuggled up against her warmth. You felt safe against her, like if you fell apart, it might be okay, because she'd be there to catch you. You lay, thoughts racing, unaware of Alexia's own racing thoughts.

-----

Of course Alexia had noticed the scars; they were faint, but they were there. You'd never brought them up, though, so she didn't either. She'd always assumed they were from a long time ago, or you would have said something.

Now that you'd admitted what was really going on with you, though, the image of the faint lines on your leg popped into her mind, and she couldn't get rid of them. She didn't know how to ask, how to make sure you were okay. All she could do was hold you tight against her, keeping you safe from everything, even yourself.

-----

You must have drifted off again, because when you blinked awake a while later, you'd shifted in your sleep, kicked the blankets down a little, and your shorts had been pushed up. Alexia had a hand resting lightly, right on the scars you'd been convinced she hadn't noticed. She didn't notice you wake up, busy staring hard at your leg, brow creased. You felt your heart rate speed up, and and you resisted the urger to push her hand off of you, and hide away.

Alexia's eyes flew back up to your face then, expressing dripping with love and concern.

"Amor..." she started, not really sure where she was going with it. "Did you...?" She asked, letting the words trail off as she looked at you gently. The words got caught in your throat, struck at how kind and soft she was being. Alexia took your silence for apprehension though. "I won't be mad, mi niña, I just need to know." You found your voice then, although it was slightly choked up.

"No, I didn't," Alexia let out a sigh of relief, fingers still absentmindedly tracing your leg. You bit your lip, trying to find the courage to say the next thing. "I thought about it, though. I almost did." You admitted shakily. Alexia leaned forward, pressing a hard kiss to your forehead, resting there for a minute as she spoke.

"I am so, so proud of you. I know that couldn't have been easy, y/n, and I am so proud of you." Alexia implored, and you nodded against her, acknowledging for the first time how hard it had been. "What can I do, how can I make it better?" She asked, desperate to do something, anything, to wipe the defeated look off your face.

"Being here, even when I tried to make you leave, is more than enough," you replied. "It'll pass, it always does. And if it doesn't, I'll do something else with my meds."

Alexia was relieved by how logical you sounded, how clearly you saw a solution. Because, if she was going to be honest, she had no idea what to do, how to help. She felt so out of her league here, but all you'd needed from her was to be here. That, she could do.

"Good. I'm not going anywhere," she told you. "Have you eaten, cariño?"

"No. Didn't want to get up."

"I'll make you something, and bring it here," she said, moving to get up. She stopped, though, when your hands reached out to cling to her sweatshirt.

"Stay for a little longer?" You asked, need for her clear on your face.

"Of course," she said sliding back into the bed. She nudged you to roll over, onto your other side, and wrapped herself around your body, pushing her face into your neck. "I'll stay as long as you need me to."

-----

hope this brings you some comfort on this heinous day (staring down months without mapi what do i do)

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

[juniperskye]

Like I Talk To Myself.

Sneak Peek:  Being the new kid in school has Jason and his asshat friends saying some horrible shit to you. In attempt of being your white knight, Eddie finds out that it’s not Jason and his goons who you need to be saved from. Eddie’s POV. Indented section is a phone call (italics are Eddie and bold is Wayne)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 2004

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, language, reader is clinically depressed, mentions of abusive home life, description of injuries from abuse, bad medication management, self-deprecation, suicidal thoughts, mention of self-harm, description of injuries related to self-harm. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE THEMES ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU!!! If I missed any, let me know!  

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The new girl had been here for nearly two months now. I had tried really hard to hide how into her I was, but the guys pretty much guessed it the second they saw me checking her out. She was different than the girls here in Hawkins, she kept to herself, not pursuing the usual popular guys. Truthfully he hadn’t seen you attempt to pursue anyone in your time here.

She was in my math class and every day she would come in with her head down, hood up, and quickly find a seat in the back. She’d end up doodling most of the class, like she was right now. The bell ringing startled her, I really wanted to reach out and comfort her, she seemed like she needed it.

I exited the classroom right behind her, only to watch Andy slam right into her. Her books went flying all over the hallway and Andy started yelling at her.

“Watch where you’re going you stupid bitch.” Andy roared.

“Woah Andy, back off. You ran into her!” I had no idea why I was interjecting.

“Oooh I get it! The freak found himself a freakette.” Jason chimed in.

“No, that’s not…” I stuttered.

“I don’t give a shit. Just keep that bitch on a leash, or next time, I’ll kick your ass.” Andy barked.

I looked back to see her scrambling to grab her things and make her way out the doors that lead to the football field. Jason and his idiot friends had been treating her like this since she arrived. They had initially tried to get in her pants and when she refused they called her things like prude, virgin Mary, but then it escalated to slut and whore. And now their name of choice had been bitch.

I made quick haste of following her, something in me just needed to make sure she was okay. As I moved to trail her, my foot made contact with something. I glanced and recognized it immediately as the notebook she’s always carrying. I picked it up and a few pages fell out, leaning over to grab them, my breath escaped me. The words and images scrawled on these pages were dark.

I picked up the pace and saw that she was headed to the picnic table in the clearing. I wasn’t far behind, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t startle her, so I called after her, just as she was sitting down.

“Hey!”

“What do you want?” She snapped.

“I uh, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Plus, I wanted to give this back to you.” I explained.

“Did you go through this?” She accused.

“No, but some of the pages fell out and I did see them…you’re not gonna go through with it are you?” I asked.

“Dude, that is none of your business. It’s not like anyone would miss me anyway.”

“I would.” I mumbled.

“You don’t know me.” She said.

I moved to sit next to her on the bench, sure to leave her enough space. Being this close to her, I could see how her skin looks dull, her cheeks sunken in, her hair looked brittle. In front of me was a girl who was going through a really hard time, and I wanted to do anything in my power to lift some of her burden.

“I don’t know much about you, but I’d really like to. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Jason’s torture.”

“Eddie, if they think that they can make me cry more than me, they’re wrong. It’s my voice in my head telling me I’m better off dead. Not Jason’s, not Andy’s, mine.” She explained.

I was speechless, I truly couldn’t believe that she felt this horrible. I had seen this girl and the amazing things she was capable of; she had silently helped others in her time here. She would loan out a pencil if it was needed, she had given her lunch to a kid who couldn’t afford it, hell, she had pulled a kid out of the way of Andy in the hall just last week so they wouldn’t have to endure what she did today. She was such a good person and he wished she could see it.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked her.

“I guess…you already know way too much about me.” She shrugged.

“In your notebook, I saw something about you hurting yourself…is that true?”

She looked down at her hands, resting in her lap. I was fully expecting her to tell me off and walk away, I had clearly pushed a boundary. But instead, she reached for her zipper, pulled it down and slid her jacket off her shoulders. She folded it neatly and placed it on the table, revealing her arms to me. A choked noise escaped my throat as my eyes roamed over the number of scars that littered her arms. There were scars that were clearly from cigarettes, other burn type scars and a bunch of neat parallel lines that varied in color. Some were white and obviously healed, some were raised scars from the depth, and some were red and recently scabbed over.

“It’s bad. I know.” She shook her head, a tear falling and landing on her jeans.

“Hey, there is no judgement. I just, I am curious to know why.” I replied.

“Why? I don’t…I’ve never been asked that before. I mean my parents treat me like shit, my dad likes to fight when he’s drunk. And my mom, she belittles me every chance she gets…she thinks depression is a joke and that I am making things up. Even after being diagnosed, she still thinks I am trying to get attention, she withholds my prescription from me sometimes.” She paused, she looked surprised at herself that she’d been able to vent freely.

“Honestly Eddie…by inflicting physical pain, I am able to shift my focus to that instead of the emotional pain. It allows me this release of all the horrible shit I am feeling after dealing with school or home.”

I looked at her, gently reached up to brush a strand of her hair back and then grabbed her hand. I locked eyes with her again, to make sure she was okay with this, and when she nodded subtly, I brought her wrist to my lips and placed a light kiss there.

“I just want the pain to end Eddie.” She sniffled.

“I know that things are really shitty right now, and I’m not going to sit here and tell you that it’ll get better, but I do know that there are steps we can take to improve it little by little and I want to help you do that if you will let me.”

*Two Months Later*

I had just gotten to school and made my way to her locker and waited, just as I had done every day for the last two months. I had promised her that I would be by her side in any way I could, and I wasn’t about to break that promise. Only, today she didn’t show. Maybe she was running late…right? I headed off to English and hoped I would see her in third period for math. When she wasn’t there, I knew I had to find her.

I left the school and drove straight to her house; I couldn’t stomach the thought of what I might find. I didn’t want to drive without knowing if she was okay, but I also couldn’t waste any more time.

I didn’t take the time to park, leaving the van diagonally in her driveway. Rushing over to the door and throwing it open.

“Hey peach, you here?” I called out, hoping she’d be sick on the couch, but when I was met with silence I made my way to the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Peach?”

I heard a quiet sob come from the bathroom and began knocking.

“Hey peach, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“No Eddie, go away, please.” She cried.

“You know I can’t do that, not until I see you’re okay.” I pleaded.

The lock to the door clicked after a moment and I quickly opened the door. The sight I was met with was one I never wish to see again. She was sat on the bathroom floor in a tank top and shorts, drops of blood were pooling on the tiles below her. Only it wasn’t of her own doing, she had a black eye, split lip and eyebrow, a sizeable cut across her cheek, and bruises littering her arms and legs.

“Peach. Who did this to you?”

“Eddie…”

“Peach. Who. Did. This.”

“My dad.” She sobbed, dropping her head into her hands.

I had to take a deep breath to calm myself. My vision was tinted in crimson, rage filling my being. I knew I needed to keep my cool though, I didn’t want to upset her anymore than she already was.

I looked at her and asked her if I could help clean up those cuts. She nodded and let me lift her to the countertop. I cleaned and bandaged her cuts and helped her to her room, I told her to lie down and went to grab her a water and some Tylenol. Once in the kitchen I grabbed the phone, dialing home.

Hey Wayne…I need a favor. My friend, That girl you call peach?  yeah peach. Are you with her now? Tell her I said hi! I will Wayne. She uh, she needs a place to stay. Eds we shouldn’t get into other people’s business…plus she’d have to stay in your room…and I don’t want any funny business under my roof. No, I know. Wayne it’s bad. She can stay here. Okay, thank you.

I made my way back to her room and handed her the water and Tylenol. I didn’t know how to suggest to her that we pack all her stuff and get her out of here, but I know I needed to. She deserved to be in a home where people loved and cared about her…not stuck here in this hell her parents have created for her.

“Hey peach…”

“Eddie…”

“You go first.” I suggested.

“I um, I know it’s a big ask…but do you think maybe I could…you know what never mind.” She shook her head.

“I called Wayne when I was downstairs. I asked him if you could stay with us, and he said yes.” I explained.

“Really? Thank you Eddie!” She sniffled and pulled me into a hug.

“Let’s get you packed!”

After gathering her things, we made our way out to the van. She left a note for her parents explaining that they didn’t need to worry about her, not that they had before. And we headed back to the trailer. Wayne came outside to help bring her things in as we pulled up, when he saw her face, he glanced at me and gave me a short nod. We got her things inside, and I helped her unpack some of her stuff.

Wayne ordered us a pizza and bid us goodnight as he left for work. I let her shower first and then after we’d both showered and brushed our teeth, we got into bed. Only after she told me it was unacceptable for me to sleep on the floor.

“I gave him the finger.” She whispered.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“He was yelling at me and calling me names. I uh, I gave him the finger and told him to go to hell.” She explained.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled “I’m not going to tolerate being called useless, stupid, or being told I am too hard to love. Not by them and not by me. Not anymore.” She turned over and smiled at me.

I couldn’t help but smile back. She was so easy to love, and I couldn’t wait to show her that.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #corroded coffin #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst blurb #sstranger things blurb #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!eddie x reader #mechanic!eddie x y/n #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

You did so good on the Dad Husk!!! 10/10!!

Would you wanna do another one, a little on the darker side, but Charlie finds out Husk’s daughter has a SH problem and tells him? Maybe he knew she used to have an issue with it but didn’t know she relapsed?

thank you soooo much!

i am hoping that i did this prompt justice. it was a bit difficult for me to write, but i made this more fluff and comfort. and figured it could give someone else some comfort like a warm hug.

WARNINGS: there is definite mentions of SH (self harm) in this.

this is also a psa before the fic, i am not a therapist nor a doctor or anyone knowledgeable really at all. i am not to take the place of a medical professional.

but if this fic resonates in any way, please know I love you, i care about you and please talk to a trusted friend, family member, professional etc if you or someone you know actively self harms.

the trevor project has resources available and counselors to talk too as well. there is also crisis text line too, either are there if you or someone you know is in crisis.

shit does get better and if it’s not better it’s not the end.

without further ado, the fic:

“Hey Husk?” Charlie approaches the bar slow, her voice going up an octave as she speaks. Husk knows she’s either going to ask for something impossible, it’s a really important thing to her or there’s some

bad news.

“What’s goin’ on, Princess?” Husk asks, fully facing Charlie and giving her his full attention.

“I-Well…” Charlie stutters. “I’m not sure how say this, but I’m concerned.”

“Just spit it out, however ya need to.” Husk directs.

“I saw, Y/N, and you know how they’ve been wearing long sleeves?” Charlie asks. Husk’s eyes widen, like he knows where this is going.

“No.” Husk says, looking at Charlie almost like he was pleading with her to tell him he was lying.

“Yes. I saw fresh marks because they had their sleeves rolled up and they didn’t know I was there.” Charlie says, tears prickling her eyes. “And I didn’t want to do anything and just got you because-“

“The last time they ran.” Husk finished for Charlie, sighing and putting a closed sign on the bar. “Where were they?”

“Upstairs, near the library.” Charlie points up the stairs.

“Okay.” Husk puts his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“Of course. Let me know if there’s anything that either of you need.” Charlie says standing there and watching as Husk nods and makes his way upstairs.

Husk looks near the library and doesn’t see Y/N. He sighs and then goes to their room, peaking in and seeing them asleep on the bed. He knew they were a deep sleeper so he quietly made his way over to the other side of the bed. He gently pulls up your sleeves and sees the fresh wounds on your arm. He closes his eyes and breathes, trying not to cry and wake you. He summons a first aid kit and treats the wounds on each arm and then wraps your arms in gauze. He cleans everything up and then sits back down, gently rubbing his claws through your hair. You slowly wake and see Husk there and smile, a bit confused.

“Sorry, I needed a nap.” You murmur, your voice scratchy.

“It’s all right, kid.” Husk smiles at you, the tears he’s been fighting back well up quickly. You look at him, concerned.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” You sit up quickly, your hand going to his face and swiping at one of the tears trailing down his face and then your eyes widen, seeing your arms bandaged. You piece everything together quickly. “How did you find out?”

“How did you expect me not to?” Husk asks, looking at you. Your own tears coming quickly.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say before sobs overtake your body. Husk pulls you into him, wrapping his arms and wings around you.

“You don’t have ta be sorry. I just need you to talk to me. You promised last time you would. I’m never too busy for ya.” Husk says, pulling you back to look you in the eyes.

“I know, but there was so much going on… And I didn’t want to be a burden.” You whisper.

“You are never. Never a burden Y/N. You hear me?” Husk says fiercely. You nod, crying harder. “I will always be here for you. I will always be in your corner. I’ve got ya, night, day and even in double death.” You nod again, burying your face in the crook of his neck and clutching him to you. He hugs you tightly and kisses the top of your head.

“We’ll get through this, you and me, but we ain’t on our own anymore. There are others who love you and care about you so much, okay?” Husk asks you.

“I know. I know Dad. It’s just… hard sometimes.” You whisper, not looking at him.

“I know it is, but that’s why we have people we care about that we can lean on, ya know. That’s rare here.” Husk murmurs, holding you to him. “Just relax, you’re all right and we can talk more in a bit.” He says as he can feel you relaxing against him again. “Getcha somethin’ to eat and some water and talk about a plan.”

You sigh and whisper , “Okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #husker x reader #hazbin husker #hazbin hotel husker #hazbin husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #husk headcanons #husker hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #dad!husk x reader #dad!husk

[igotanidea]

Spoiled: Dick Grayson x reader

Summary: Women's day with Dick.

Warning: a little innuendo at the end, but no worries, minors allowed ;)

***

After knowing each other for a few years they became a couple in June, hence 8th March of a current year was their first International Women’s Day together.

Well- to say the whole truth – it was her first IWD with him, but the point stood.

And Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-way when it came to his girlfriend(s).

Since he might have fucked up Valentines’ day (in his defense he wasn’t entirely sure of how she felt about it since there was never even a hint on her part that she wanted to celebrate it and their relationship was still kind of fresh) it was obvious he had to make up for it, by giving her the best 8th March celebration ever.

“Morning sweetheart.”

At this point she should have been used to him visiting her apartment in the most abnormal morning hours, coming back from his Nightwinging-shit. Regardless, being torn from the sleep by his blue and black silhouette and domino mask, sometimes with the widest, charming, boyish grin and some other with blood and injuries all over was something she couldn’t move past.

“mmhmh….” She muttered rolling on her side in the bed to check the hour. 5 am. 5 am at fucking Friday. “are you hurt….?” Poor girl couldn’t even find any strength to bash him.

“no, not exactly—”

“then I’m sure it can wait for two or three hours? Come on, Grayson. I start my shift at 9 today, let me have some more rest….”

“But—” Dick frowned taking off his mask and studying her silhouette curled under the cover, one leg still in the dreamland. Did she really forget what day was it today?

“Mh. Just shut up and come here….” She mumbled again lifting the hem of the blanket, silently inviting him in and it actually did lift his spirits.

As quick as possible he stripped of his suit and slid into the bed next to her, immediately wrapping arms around her waist pulling her close. Unsure whether it was him looking for comfort and assurance he would always have someone to come home to, or rather him giving her love and warmth and safety – a must have for a woman.

“Y/n….” he whispered in her ear, running fingers up and down her back soothingly, creating the atmosphere of intimacy and love.

“The hell you want?” she snuggled closer

“Best wishes…”

“What…?” she raised her head, searching his eyes, all the sleepiness leaving her at once “you sure you’re not injured? Like – your head for example? My b-day are in September, our anniversary is in June, I didn’t win a lottery, there’s no occasion today so what are you talking about?”

“Y/N! baby!” Dick laughed pecking the top of her nose playfully “come on, think for a moment!”

“It’s 5 a.m. are you seriously asking me to freaking think?”

“What kind of special day do we have in March?”

“World Self-harm Awareness Day?”

“What?” he laughed whole-heartedly “that’s really the first thing that came to your pretty little head?”

“Jerk.”

“Come on baby… Flowers, chocolates, fancy dates…”

“Are you trying to remind me you fucked up Valentines’ Day?”

“It was not me! It was Nightwing’s fault.”

“Oh yeah, right. Blame your alter ego and you’re on a highway to split personality. Seriously what-“ she lift herself, a bit annoyed at his games now and her eyes landed on the calendar on the wall, noticing the date marked in a red circle and an exclamation mark. “Oh….”

“You there now?” Dick smirked

“I hate you Grayson-“ she muttered leaning forward to kiss him softly

“Just wait till you see what I planned for the day.”

***

Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-assed.

Wait? Did I already say that? Too bad.

Dick Grayson was not known for doing anything half-assed.

Such a shame that the festive day was taking place on Friday, cause otherwise he would lock her inside the apartment keeping her all to himself and spoiling her on the entire day.

But it was obvious from the get go that she was not going to skip a work day and there was no way to stop her (power girl simply liking her work, it was not a crime).

On the bright side – it was the perfect opportunity to extend the celebration on a whole weekend.

Starting from having the perfect evening.

Y/N could only do as little as step inside the apartment, after work, exhausted after all week with her brain becoming a jello, legs giving up, when she was snatched by a pair of strong arms and held close to a broad warm chest. And the contented sigh that escaped her lips was definitely not a sign of complaint.

"Missed you my beautiful woman."

"I can tell." she chuckled in response, glad to be back home to him.

"Now come on, pick up your prettiest dress and we're going out.'

"We're what?" that was unexpected "and what do you mean prettiest dress? I don’t have any dresses-"

"Good thing your boyfriend thought of that too-" Dick grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom where the most elegant and a bit revealing (but still chic) piece of clothing was spread on the bed.

"Grayson...." no matter how much she tried to deny her own instincts there was no way to stop herself from running fingers over the soft silky fabric and delighting in its sensation on her skin. She could only imagine how it would feel having that masterpiece hugging her body.

"Do you like it?"

"Like it?" she turned to face him, her eyes showing all the adoration of the gift. "But - I can't accept it. I mean - I'm sure it was--"

"Don't you dare saying it."

"But-"

"I bought it for you, you hear me? Because you deserve it, because I love you, because you're my woman and I’m your man." he grabbed her by the waist spinning her around and pulling to him. The fact that he was towering over her, holding her so firmly and giving her that man-like look silenced all her words of opposition. “Accept it, okay? Accept the fact that there’s me in your life now.”

“Right. The great, famous, handsome Dick Grayson the Wayne prodigy”

“Did you say handsome?” he smirked causing her to roll her eyes “seriously Y/N, I’m in your life. To stay. So the sooner you get used to unexpected gifts and surprises and being treated like a woman the better.”

“You still fucked up Valentine’s day.”

“You’ll be reminding me of that till the rest of my life, won’t you?”

“Of course.” She ginned playfully leaning to kiss him “I’m a woman. We collect such thing to use them as a potential argument in a quarrel.” She winked and this time it was him who rolled his eyes at her antics before silencing her with a proper make out session.

***

Clearly the dress was not enough for him.

Clearly taking a private Wayne jet and flying to NY was not enough for him.

He had to make a reservation at the most exquisite restaurant in the country. With the table in the secluded part of the spot, on the balcony with the perfect view on the night skyline, illuminated by the millions of little bright flickering lights.

And despite all that wonders all over them his eyes were focused solely on her.

From the way she looked in that dress (smoking hot, cause he knew what he was choosing after all), through the way her eyes were shining, hair flowing and cheeks flushing all the way to the fact that she finally allowed herself to relax and not overthinking all the stuff about expenses or being demanding.

Dream come true.

Living a fantasy when he grabbed her hand over the table and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles looking deep into her eyes.

Getting lost in their own private paradise when after the dinner they were just standing next to the railing, enjoying the peace and calmness, his arms around her waist, her back to his chest, not caring about problems, stuff to do or other people.

It was not often they could indulge and Dick was not going to miss the opportunity of being free for one night, able to plant little soft kisses on her neck, whispering soft words of love and feeling her body so close to him, while the a sign on the hotel room door clearly announced that guests requested privacy.

The silkiness of the sheets paled in comparison to the softness and delicacy of her skin and lips.

And the silence that was punctuated by her soft sighs and breathy words couldn't have been more perfect.

His woman.

Her man.

World could wait.

After all what could it do in a clash with a blooming love?

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson smut #nightwing smut #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson fluff #nightwing fluff

[goodgirlofglory]

Hiya doll! 👋 Finals month is still in motion, so I’ve been pretty quiet on the asks. But today I was feeling some sort of way, and I wanted to know if you’re open to this request.

“Bucky with a reader who is insecure about her body”

Basically, I see a lot of representation for plus size girlies on tumblr ( and this is no hate to anyone) but I wish there was also more representation for midsize girlies. Also for girls who are on the taller side, I’m talking 5”7 and up. I’m 5”7 myself, and wearing any shoe that gives me extra inches makes me feel like I tower over my friends or others.

Another thing is, if you do write for this ask, I was thinking that even though reader does have a low self-esteem, she puts on a front and seems like she has a majorrrrrr ego or god complex. So maybe, Bucky see through that, gets her down from there, and fucks her in front of a mirror 🫣🥵

And I oop-

Anyways, regardless to everything, have a fantastic day/night and rest of your week! I appreciate you 💜💜💜

Bestie!!!!🦋

I hope your finals went well!🫶🫶🫶

I am soooo sorry this took so long! It needed to sit with me for a while before I felt I could do it justice, and then life happened in the meantime ya'know.

Anyways I so dearly hope you like this🙏🙏 I resonated a lot with your prompt as a midsize girlie myself and channeled some of my own experience into it (though I have sadly never been fucked in front of a mirror by Bucky Barnes)💖

Anyway, hope you're having a good day or night wherever you are, you are a true gem 🫶���️🫶✨️🫶

(Also can’t wait to hear what you think of this so lmk😘)

Just perfect / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x secretlyinsecure!taller!midsize!reader

Word count: 7,8k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, SMUT, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, dom!Bucky, unprotected p in v (be safe my sweet darlings), a split second of oral (f receiving), reader is insecure and has some harmful thoughts about her own body.

Summary: A rather dreadful Christmas party at S.H.I.E.L.D takes a turn for the better (and frankly therapeutical) when Bucky Barnes shows you that your self-deprecating thoughts about your body might not be as objective as you thought.

“Mid,” you muttered to yourself as you looked over your outfit one more time in the mirror, fighting down the nagging notion of not feeling entirely satisfied with the reflection. The little, black dress fit you perfectly, hugging your upper body like a second skin before flaring out in the shimmering, silk fabric of the skirt that reached just below your knees. Appropriate for a work party, while the hidden slit in the side of the skirt was just a little something extra cheeky for those who’d pay attention. You doubted anyone would. It fit your persona as a ruthless man repeller perfectly too. No flashy colors, no risque shapes, no cutouts and not too short. No fun either, but that wasn’t important here. The cleavage even appeared modest with the average size of your breasts. 

“Fucking mandatory Christmas party,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and left your apartment to head to the Avengers compound for the second time that day. How is it even allowed to make an after hours social event mandatory, you wondered angrily as you got in the waiting cab. You kept adjusting your dress as the city slowly flashed by outside the cab window, second guessing everything about your outfit from the dress to the shoes to the bag to the red lipstick you’d dared yourself to put on, afraid it was too much and too basic at the same time. 

You knew it was ridiculous to feel so self conscious about yourself and your body. For all intents and purposes, you were perfectly and quite uninterestingly average, neither plus size nor skinny. You knew your plus size girlies had a way harder time being judged and disrespected for their size, and you didn’t want to be too skinny either, like malnourished. You were perfectly midsize, eating healthy and exercising for your body's sake, eating chocolate and pasta and drinking beer for your mental health’s sake. You were perfectly. average. midsize.

It was just that, the lack of appreciation and attention over the years has slowly chipped away at your confidence, and then your self-image, and then your self-esteem, to a point that it was difficult to even rouse any positive thoughts about yourself that didn’t feel half-hearted or mandatory for the girlboss-affirmation of the day. 

The one thing you had going for you, the one thing you felt unequivocally confident about, was your job. Working as one of the high level secretaries for Fury himself, you actually had quite the high seat in the house, with clearance, authority and trust from the big man on top himself. It also meant saying no to quite a lot of things and people on a daily basis, to stop people from charging into the director's office in anger, to be authoritative enough to make people listen and actually do whatever orders you delivered on the director’s behalf (and your own sometimes). The job, which you loved and had worked hard to get, was just a tad challenging to splice with a lack of self-image.

So you’ve built a ruthless, badass, girlboss, gatekeep, gaslight persona for yourself, known for being resistant to all flattery, all bribes, all flirting and all begging. Nothing got past you and everyone seemed just a little afraid of you. It was true, you’d garnered the nickname “the other she-hulk” among your peers. And though you embodied this persona like the most natural thing in the world, it was also a front really, for your honest to God lack of confidence in your everything average.

Oh yeah, except for your height, you realized as you got out of the cab at your destination and was hailed over by the other female colleagues in your department waiting outside the compound - the shoes you wore turned out to give you several inches of height on the other girls, even as they also wore stiletto-like heels. In the height department, you were just above average, which did not make you feel any better necessarily. 

Fuck. You looked like their fucking body guard, looming behind them like a giraffe as you made your way inside, them smiling and laughing, you affecting your haughty mask, the one that protected you the best when you were feeling a bit off-kilter. Better to deem everyone here below your interest before they even had a chance to assess you, right?  

The party was nice. They’d somehow managed to make the compound not feel like a concrete bunker, decorating almost every surface with some fabric or other, flashy reds and silvers and greens and blues, giant trees everywhere overloaded with decorations. Maximalism galore.

“It looks like Santa exploded in here,” you joked to your colleagues, receiving a bout of wild laughter in return. It hadn’t really been that funny, but hey, maybe you could be known as the “other deadpool” in the future if you worked hard enough on your comedy. 

As usual, the lovelier girls of your department got swarmed pretty quickly by guys. Recruits, officers, cadets, other secretaries - they all flocked to your group. You didn’t blame them, your colleagues were beautiful, witty, smiling brightly and exuding a sort of light that could only be rivaled by the sun. They were nice to everyone too, unlike you. 

You stayed and chatted for a bit. No one commented on your dress and certainly not the split at the side, and you tried not to let that get to you. This was a work event, after all, it would be inappropriate if they did come on to you or something. Your self-esteem whimpered quietly even so. 

It didn’t take long for the rest to get tipsy, and someone started blasting music somewhere, effectively switching from corporate mingling-mode to drunken tomfoolery-mode. You easily resisted getting dragged to the dancefloor, effecting a disinterested, above-it-all mask as your work friends pouted and dragged your arm in a petulant, though surprisingly endearing way. 

“I’m not debasing myself tonight, thank you very much,” you said, knowing it was harsh but only gaining a playfully scolding look before the whole gang bounced off to dance without you. 

You made your way over to the bar instead. A half-hour or so more and then you could safely leave without breaking any social codes, you thought with relief as you ordered another glass of champagne. 

Turning from the bar, glass in hand, you suddenly bumped into someone, champagne sloshing around the rim, a few drops spilling over your hand. 

“Hey, watch where-” you started, words dying in your mouth as you looked up…and up a broad chest, a thick neck and then came face to face with Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier himself. 

B-big, your brain supplemented eloquently as you stopped speaking all together. 

How was he so tall? Okay, so you knew he was tall, you’d encountered him regularly over the years and had always felt dwarfed by the tree-trunk size of the man, but you were in four inch heels, god damnit, and you still had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. They glinted as he looked down on you, and for a moment you forgot who you were supposed to be and nearly shrank in on yourself, feeling uncharacteristically small. 

“Sorry,” he simply said, giving you a once-over so quick you weren’t sure it’d happened at all, and then he leaned around you to grab a few napkins from the bar. He made quick work of taking the glass from your hand and wiping the stray drops of champagne from it, set it on the bar and then gently took your hand in his and wiped it as well. 

You could only stare in astonishment at the size of his hands, rough and calloused, but with neatly trimmed nails, engulfing yours and being so exquisitely gentle. He put the glass back in your hand and looked down at you with a pleased smile. 

You quickly amassed your indifferent mask, raising a haughty eyebrow at him, and stepped aside so he could order whatever he wanted. He’d at least apologized and cleaned up the mess he (and you together, admittedly) had caused. You supposed it was the best outcome, both for your pride and confidence. You didn’t step far from the bar, sure you would be back soon enough for another glass, and looked out on the burgeoning dance floor in front of you. 

“Why don’t you join?” a deep voice asked from the side. 

Looking over, Bucky had come up to stand at your side, looking out over the crowd as well, whiskey glass in hand. His strong profile was illuminated by the flashing lights of the dance floor, reflected in those baby blue eyes, and his hair was tucked back into a bun at the back of his head. His suit must have been tailored by sorcery or something, because it hugged him in all the right places, press neat and crisp, making him look both perfectly put together and indecently so.   

Okay, so maybe you had a little something of a crush on the guy. He was fine as hell, and always put this old school New York charm on you whenever you met. He was the only one who still tried to charm and flirt with you whenever he came to Fury’s office, and though you put on your unimpressed and uninterested mask, thoroughly shutting him down each time, you secretly appreciated those moments more than you would ever admit out loud. It felt nice that he at least treated you the same as all the other secretaries - he was the only one who still did. 

You raised your eyebrow, securing a bored look even as you wanted to ask with you?

“Not exactly my crowd,” you said instead, taking a swig at your drink. 

“No? Didn’t think you cared about things like that,” he said, smoothly challenging you. 

“Not exactly my music, then,” you said. Arrogance and low energy usually got people to leave you alone when you felt fragile. You turned to give him a fake, sarcastically apologetic smile. 

“Ah, I see. Too bad, would’ve loved to see how wide that split goes while you twirl,” he said, leaning closer to you, and in your shock the mask you’d held on so tight cracked, and you whipped to look at him. He’d noticed it?

You saw the pleased victory shining in his eyes. Cheeky bastard was trying to break you, trying to make you drop the haughty exterior, like he knew you were only putting up a front. And you’d let your mask slip and showed him he was right. And like you suspected he knew, it was the exact sort of thing you deeply, secretly craved someone to do. 

But it wouldn’t be that easy. Bucky could just be fucking with you, or making easy conversation. But he’d noticed the split in your dress, so he must’ve been looking, right? Just a little harder than everybody else. Still, it was out of the question to just drop every defense and wall you had now, in this room, just because of one comment from him. You quickly affected an unimpressed, almost fatigued mask, raising your glass to your lips. 

“Too bad, Barnes, I’ve already had my high school prom,” you said, delivering the line with just the perfect amount of arrogance and judgment. 

You felt his eyes lingering on your face for long moments as you stared into the crowd, refusing to meet his eyes and potentially let more slip. This shit was exhausting enough when people didn’t clock on to your farce. Still, a small part of you didn’t want him to stop looking, to stop showering you in this undivided attention that sizzled like carbonic bubbles on your skin. 

You immediately shut down your disappointment when he left without another word, telling yourself to be proud you didn’t beg or flirt or plead for his attention like everyone else did. You didn’t need anyone but yourself, you needed to remember that. 

The music shifted from some mainstream pop song to some very old jazz, and the sudden shift only had a second to register before Bucky appeared as from thin air, took your glass from you, downed the rest of your drink in one gulp (eyes shining with mischief as you gawked a little at him), ditched the glass on the nearby table and then promptly took you by the hands and hauled you out on the dance floor. 

“W-wait, I -” your words cut off to a little squeal as the soldier wrapped a strong arm around your waist and twirled you so your feet lifted off the ground, the skirt of your dress flying out. Your arms clung around his neck and shoulders as the world spun in a flurry of bright, flickering lights, and your feet didn’t touch the ground for ten solid seconds as Bucky turned and turned. 

When he eventually put you down, his arms didn’t let up much, keeping you firmly tucked to the hard planes of his stomach and chest with a hand that went around your back and held your waist on the other side. 

You schooled your expression down even as nerves and excitement and a fair share of actual, fucking excitement filled you from the unexpected dancing. You actually did like to dance a lot. You looked up and found Bucky’s eyes on your face, glimmering in the bright lights as he easily led you in some old timey couple’s dance that he apparently knew perfectly.

“This music more to your liking?” he asked, challenging and genuine at the same time, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand his angle. Why was he doing this? 

You knew people were watching, even as the dance floor was still full of other dancers making due with their modern dance moves to the old music. And though you did feel kinda nervous being so exposed, you couldn’t very well cut off this dance and leave - that would only make you look even more insecure than you felt.

So you soldiered through, putting on a mildly entertained, smug look and looking Bucky in the eyes. 

“It’s certainly something else,” you said, and watched as his eyes flared over with a sort of playful frustration, shaking his head a little at you, but smiling despite himself. 

“Drop the act, sweetheart,” he said then, low enough for no one else to hear, but it still made you bristle. 

“What act?” you said, making it sound nonchalant and innocent at the same time. “Just because you remember one dance from 70 years ago, I’m supposed to swoon?” you challenged, knowing the words were harsh but goddamnit, he was getting too close. 

A groan escaped him then, one you felt more than heard from the way your bodies were pressed together, and you flushed, not expecting that kind of response. 

He leaned down and murmured in your ear.

“I like it when you’re mean, but I’d like it more if you were honest,” he said, and your breath caught, the physical sensation of his hot breath on your ear distracting you to the point of stumbling a bit on your heels. His arm around your waist didn’t let you so much as twist an ankle, which made you feel even more heated. 

Before you could come up with a retort, Bucky flung you out in a twirl, making your skirt fly around you. He led you perfectly even as he almost threw you around like a ragdoll, and you had to admit you were amazed by how graceful you were even as every move and twist were orchestrated and led by Bucky. The crowd disappeared as you moved to the music, coming back to Bucky, being swung out again, your back to his front at one point, his breath hot on your neck, swinging out again and stepping past each other in swoops only connected by your hand in his. 

You met his eyes and saw the flash over with an intensity that made your skin prickle, with a hunger you could scarcely believe was meant for you, eyes raking over your body, lingering on the leg peaking out through the split in your skirt, your chest heaving in the low cut neckline of your dress, your face flushed and no doubt looking as amazed as you felt on the inside. 

The dance ended in a perfectly timed dip, Bucky holding you down and cradling your neck and the small of your back in capable arms, face so close you could feel his breath fan across your face, smelling of whiskey and spearmint. 

You smiled, couldn’t help it, you hadn’t had this much fun at a work event in years. Bucky’s eyes flitted about your face as he echoed your smile with a brilliant flash of teeth himself. Your heart thudded in your chest, and your eyes flicked down to his lips, those luscious, plump lips and oh holy fuck did you want to kiss him at that moment. A desperation you couldn’t quell seized you by your fucking guts and you positively throbbed. Your smile faltered, and you saw his fall too. Daring to look up into his eyes, you saw the same hunger reflected there, nearly engulfing you in its heat. 

Then the crowd returned, cheering, the music went back to some pop song from last year and reality dumped back in on your head so fast you almost made the mistake of scrambling out of Bucky’s hold. 

No, no, no, way too exposed, this was not how you planned this night…

You were actually proud of the way you managed to slowly extract yourself from Bucky’s arms, give a slow, bored “thank you,” and then calmly leave the room all together to escape to the ladies room. 

You had to admit, they hadn’t neglected the bathrooms in the compound, you thought as you occupied the space alone. They were kinda nice, big and spacious, marble and polished steel making the space comfortable and with an air of luxury compared to the practical, brutalist vibe of the rest of the building. 

You touched up on your lipstick, hands shaking a little from the excursion of the dancing. Okay, you needed to leave, you thought to yourself as you felt your skin still sizzling faintly wherever Bucky’s hands had touched you. Your nerves seemed newly awakened as if from a deep slumber, and it would not do to develop an even deeper crush on him. 

As if summoned, the door to the bathroom opened and Bucky stepped through, eyes finding yours in the mirror immediately. 

“I think you’re supposed to be in the next room over Barnes,” you drawled even as your heart picked up speed. 

He didn’t answer as he slowly crossed the room. 

You couldn’t help shifting in your skin as your body thrummed with an exhausting amount of nervous excitement. His gaze was level,possessing your attention like an iron grip. It was like he saw right through every mask and facade you tried to put on, right in to the very center, the very truth inside you. It lulled you and provoked you at the same time. 

“You’re in the wrong restroom, Barnes,” you said, even harsher, when he was about halfway across to you. He still didn’t answer. 

You spun to face him, anger welling higher. Who did he think he was, coming in here and stripping away the only scraps of protection you had, looking at you like he could read the thoughts as they appeared in your mind?

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he answered as you glared at him, coming to stop directly in front of you, only inches between you, and the air there sparked with energy you just couldn’t deny you were affected by. 

You scoffed, fighting against the crumbling of your exterior. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted him. Couldn’t deny it, couldn’t help yourself as your muscles ached to reach for him, to press yourself against him and let him wrap his strong, safe arms around you again. To tuck yourself away into him and shut your mind off and just feel taken care of - in any way - by someone other than yourself.

A desperate thought occurred to you; maybe you could do this without losing face. If you went on the offensive, you could still hold control over the situation while still letting whatever was sizzling between you and Bucky explode, you thought a bit desperately as you held his stare, his eyes darkening as the seconds ticked by. Maybe you didn’t have to bare your soul for him in order to get a taste of what you wanted. You could just make it out to be a hookup at a party, something carnal but detached. Give your body to him while still guarding your mind and soul. 

Not giving yourself a moment more to stall, you surged forward, grabbed his neck and kissed him. He wasn’t as surprised as you’d liked by your sudden call to action. In fact, he seemed to come unleashed the moment your lips met his, a grunt sounding in his throat as he instantly wrapped one arm around your waist, his other going into your hair to keep your head firmly put where he wanted it. 

Yes

The kiss was filthy, hot breaths and open mouths and tongue on tongue almost immediately, like a dam of pent up lust had just erupted at that first touch for the both of you. He pushed you back so the marble counter dug into your ass, and plastered himself against you, groaning as your hands moved to map out his back. 

You fumbled to reach for the lapels on his jacket and he let up his hold just long enough for you to wrench his suit jacket off him before both pair of hands went on frantically groping and gripping and touching, and you couldn’t seem to draw breath into your aching lungs for all the burning desire that flooded your body. 

Bucky broke out of your heady kiss, gasping as he leaned his forehead to yours, hands gripping your hip and the back of your neck so tight it almost pinched you, and you relished the feeling. 

“Fuck,” he groaned between pants, and you liked the sound of that very much. 

You gave him a sultry and cocky “mhm” as you kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip. When you opened your eyes again, he was still looking at you, his stare so fucking intense. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and that…was stepping into a territory you were not too keen on. You couldn’t have sentimentality at that moment. You couldn’t control your tiny wince either, trying to move on with another kiss, your hands dragging down the hard planes of his chest to entice him to move along. 

Bucky didn’t grant you that mercy. He apparently saw your wince as well as he saw the split in your skirt, and scrutinized you with a piercing stare as he reiterated between kisses. 

“So gorgeous,” he murmured and you tried your damndest to ignore it, kissing him more intently, hands moving a bit desperately to his belt, but an uncomfortable laughter escaped you either way. 

Bucky stopped your hands, grabbing them and putting them on the counter at your side before cradling your face firmly in his hands. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is he doing, you lamented as you looked everywhere but his eyes. 

“I mean it, you’re a gorgeous woman,” he said and you whined softly, not at all capable of hearing that. Whether out of a misguided sense of pity or because he wanted to get in your panties, you didn’t want him to tell you that shit just to placate you. You were already dying to get fucked, false flattery was of no need. You were practically soaking your panties already just from his kisses and his hands, one warm and one slightly colder, moving over your body like he couldn’t get to all of it quick enough.

“You don’t have to-” you started exasperated, squirming to get away from the intimacy of his proximity, the way he looked at you and the way he was cradling your face. 

“You see, this is what I mean. I think you’re hiding, doll. You don’t realise how fucking amazing you are, and you hide it behind a bitchy face and even bitchier words,” he said.

Words failed you then. The fucking audacity of this man to call you out like that. You were not prepared to be laid out like that, and you didn’t know whether to fight back with teeth and claws or to flee in your humiliation. 

Bucky must have seen your warring thoughts on your face, the simmering rage at being cornered and confronted like this, like an animal frantic with self preservation. 

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, and you could see a fierce competitive glint light on fire in his eyes, pouncing on the challenge.

In a flash, he’d turned you around and you met your own expression in the mirror above the sink. Bucky stepped flush against you again, and nestled the hard bulge in his pants right against your ass. You squirmed and whined a little. You wanted that inside you already. But Bucky held you tightly pinned between himself and the counter, his metal hand coming around to splay on your stomach, shining metal against the black silk fabric, effectively giving you no room to move. His hand was so huge, it covered nearly the whole area between your belly button and the underside of your heaving breasts. He propped his chin on your shoulder and captured your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. 

“You’re exquisite, doll” he whispered, his other hand landing lightly on your waist. This time you saw your own wince of disbelief in the mirror, instantly embarrassed at how revealing you were. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, both from his words and the way his eyes were just eating your body up in the mirror. 

“I’m nothing special,” you heard yourself murmur. 

“Oh, on the contrary, doll, you’re as rare as they come,” Bucky said, flesh hand moving to grab your hips appreciatively. “Swinging these hips all around the compound, your walk so sweet compared to that barking mouth you’ve got on ya,” he said, drawled a bit, his Brooklyn accent coming forth, kneading your hips and pulling you back to grind your ass on his hard bulge. 

Your breath hitched on a gasp, and your heart fluttered in your chest. He’d been watching the way you walked? And he liked it?

His hands came up to cup one of your heaving breasts. 

“Such elegant lines, perfect, round tits,” he murmured into the skin below your ears, and you trembled in his arms as his fingers teased a nipple through the thin fabric of your dress. 

“A neck that’s just begging to be sucked on and marked,” he continued before his lips sealed itself to that sensitive spot right below the hinge of your jaw and you gasped raggedly as sparks flew through your body. 

You were positively high on the novelty of his praise, but you just couldn’t quite believe it. 

“I’ve…a-always just thought I was so average,” you admitted, voice timid, nothing short of a whisper, and you berated yourself for revealing your insecurity so openly, even as Bucky’s lips let go of your skin and he nuzzled the hair behind your ear. 

“God, no,” he sighed, hand coming down to your hip again, guiding you to grind back on his bulge again, and fuck, he was hard, “I don’t get how you could even think that,” he said, and the genuine astonishment in his voice had to be real, or else he was a brilliant fucking actor. 

Your hips had started moving on their own now, steadily grinding between his metal hand on your stomach and the hard cock at your ass, sizzling sparks of heat traveling your body from the friction. You could feel Bucky nodding into the crook of your neck, encouraging and praising at the same time. 

“But I’m…kinda tall…surely y-you’d want someone shorter, m-more petite?” you heard yourself whisper, and you just had to ask him right out, to give voice to those incessant, nagging insecurities. 

He actually laughed then, a breathy chuckle against the exposed skin of your shoulder. 

“Are you kidding? You nearly gave me a heart attack in these heels tonight, baby,” he said easily, calm and honest and straightforward and it was like he wasn't even trying to convince you of anything, he was just speaking honestly. “And when you danced with me? How sexy and smooth and fucking alive you were as you let me spin you? Couldn’t take my fucking eyes of you, fuck, I haven’t been this hard in ages. Plus, you’re just perfect for me to fuck like this. Can’t you feel how perfectly your ass fits against my cock when you grind like that, huh? Can’t have that with a shorter girl, you were made for me, darling,” he said, breath growing puffy and you were almost shaking, both from his words and the blazing fucking heat they stoked.

A needy, whimpering sort of whine escaped you at that. It was perfect, your height to his. Perfect for you to nudge your ass against his pelvis and feel his hot lips and a sliver of tongue on the heated skin of your neck at the same time. 

“Do you believe me, now, sweetheart? Or do you need me to fuck it into you?” he asked then, a teasing lilt to his voice even as it dropped a fucking octave, rumbling over you skin, making you ache. 

You turned your head to graze your lips against his, recognising when he was posing a challenge by now, when his competitive side came out to play. You waited just a few seconds, letting your mingling, ragged breaths fill the silence, before answering, looking him straight in his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered against his mouth. 

His reaction was almost instant. His metal hand came up to cradle your throat, pinning you close to him as his flesh hand had the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips in a split second. His hand was between your legs in the next second, brazen and possessive and you fucking loved it, knees nearly buckling in your stilettos as his warm flesh palm cupped you there. A filthy groan sounded in your ear. 

“Fucking perfect pussy already soaked for me, huh?” he downright growled, fingers moving up and down your clothed slit, feeling just how wet you were through the flimsy fabric of your lace panties. “This pussy aching, huh? Hasn’t been fucked right in ages, I reckon? Some bastard left you feeling like less than just perfect?” he babbled as he began rubbing tight circles on your clit, making you keen at both his words and ministrations, mind floating up to the fucking skies on a cloud of endorphins and arousal. “You give me their names, honey, and I’ll make sure they never bother you again,” he said, dark intentions in an even darker, gruffer voice and you couldn’t stand still for the way you needed him. 

“Fuuuck, please, Bucky,” you whined, grinding your pussy down on his hand, soaking his fingers. 

“That’s right, baby, you take what you deserve, you take what this perfect body deserves,” he encouraged. 

“I need…I need,” you breathed, eyes closing as you rode the sensation of being touched like this, so expertly, too much one second and not enough the next. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me,” he groaned into the skin of your neck. 

“I need…your…please, your cock,” you whimpered. 

His hands pulled back and gave your pussy a playful little slap, making you jolt and yelp in his arms, and the slight sting felt so fucking good. 

“That’s right,” he said, giving you a few precious seconds to collect your frayed, jumbled, melting mind as he frantically undid his belt and fly, pulling his cock out and pulling your soiled panties to the side to notch his cock at your weeping hole. 

He didn’t give you anymore time to beg before he pushed his hips forward and you both gasped raggedly as his cock slid in, perfectly to the hilt, your pussy sucking him in like it had a mind of its own. His whole frame, massive and rugged as it was, shuddered as he stood there with his cock buried inside you, and you opened your eyes to watch in astonished fascination through the reflection in the mirror as he took a moment to get a hold of himself. One hand flexed its grip around your throat, the other on your hip, grip so tight and you hoped it would leave bruises. 

He didn’t wait long until he started thrusting, pulling out almost completely before thrusting in again, forgoing any buildup and going straight to the main fucking course and you were so ridiculously relieved he wasn’t teasing you anymore. 

His hands let go of you and you fell forward, draping yourself over the counter so you could just feel the way his cock, thick and ridged and so fucking hard, dragged against your walls, yielding nothing as he speared you. 

“Need to see you,” Bucky breathed between pants as he kept fucking you. 

You felt the bodice of your dress loosen and realized he had undone the zipper at the back of your dress, peeling it off your arms and then hauling you the meat of your shoulder to straighten against him again, completely naked from the waist up. 

His hands were on your exposed skin immediately, mapping out your ribcage, squeezing the pouch beneath your belly button and coming up to knead your breasts, pulling on your nipples. He was like a man starved, all the while his cock was steadily pumping into you, pushing you higher and higher, the sounds from where you were joined filtering in through your haze of lust and pleasure like a sinful symphony. 

You opened your eyes to find his in your reflection, pools of incendiary desire following every minute twitch of your face. Your eyes flicked over your own face and saw the crimson flush, the sweat on your brow, hair ruffled, the scrunched up expression and heavy-lidded, drugged eyes. You looked a downright, embarrassing mess, your deepest pleasure so plainly written on your face, exposing you to the point of pain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to lean back to hide in the crook of his neck. 

Bucky did not let you. 

“Oh no, no, no, don’t hide from me now, sugar,” he said, one hand coming up to pull your face forward, “look at me,” he ordered and you opened your eyes to his again. 

“See how exquisite you are?” he asked, hips slapping against your ass. “See how beautiful you look, taking my cock?” he asked, watching you watch him in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he ordered, and you whimpered as you met your own gaze in the mirror again. 

There was an almost lascivious tilt to his voice as he kissed your neck sloppily and murmured. 

“Tell her she looks beautiful,” he said. 

You thrashed as much as you could in your pinned position, the counter digging into your hips, high heeled shoes barely touching the floor. 

“Bucky,” you whined petulantly. There was no way. 

“Say it, darling,” he warned before his hips slowed down to an almost complete stop, and that only made you thrash harder. “Oh, you want to come baby? Then look at yourself in the mirror and say ‘I’m beautiful,” he said, and you gawked at him in disbelief, humiliation and mortification burning hot on your cheeks. 

The hand not holding your face towards the mirror kept exploring your flesh as he waited, pinching and grabbing everywhere like he just couldn’t stop. You looked at yourself in the mirror, took in the simmering fire in your eyes, your lips with its bright red lipstick smeared all over. 

“Come on, darling, don’t you want to come? Won’t you let me make you come?” Bucky asked, spreading kisses down your neck as his eyes burned into your face through the mirror. 

You fought it for as long as you could, didn’t want to play these games, didn’t want to see your own vulnerability on your face as you said something you should believe but didn’t quite. 

Bucky grinded his hips all the way inside you and then stilled completely and your need won. 

“I’m beautiful,” you whispered, breath hitching as you saw the disbelief, the resistance in your own eyes, hating yourself both for saying it and not believing it. 

Bucky groaned in a resolutely pleased manner and started moving his hips again, languidly stroking in and out of your sopping cunt. 

“Again,” came his growled order from behind. 

Your resilience was weaker this time, with the tip of his cock reaching so deep, adding rhythmic pressure to that elusive spot in the deepest nook of your body that had your knees going wobbly. 

“I’m beautiful,” you said again, this time giving a low, timid voice to the words. 

Bucky groaned behind you, hands gripping you tighter as his hips picked up speed. 

“That’s right. Say ‘I’m gorgeous’.”

“I-I’m gorgeous.”

“Say ‘I deserve this’”

“I d-d - oh fuck - I deserve this - ah -”

“Say ‘I’m making Bucky Barnes crazy on a daily basis and I don’t even care enough to acknowledge it,” Bucky husked behind you. 

That made you actually giggle, though it came out more like a stuttering whine.

“I-I didn’t know,” you moaned, breaking your own eye contact in the mirror to look at his face. You honestly didn’t. Sure, you’d established a playful banter over the years, frequently sparking conversation whenever he was at your desk for something concerning Fury or you met in the halls or right after department meetings. But you’d honestly never considered you, just being you, could be driving a man like him crazy. 

Eyes dark as the ocean burned into yours from where his face was propped on your shoulder, mouth nibbling on the side of your neck and your earlobe as his hips kept up a punishing pace. It was becoming hard to string together coherent thoughts, your mind going hazy from the steady punch of his cock. 

He smiled against your skin, nipping it so hard you squealed a little, head swimming from the mix of pain and pleasure. 

“You’re killing me here, doll,” Bucky murmured playfully against your skin, hands moving again, skimming over your skin and kneading your flesh in such an appreciative way it had you blushing, even as you were steadily pounded by his cock, halfnaked in the bathroom at your workplace during a fucking Christmas party. 

It was all a haze, the way you were hurtling towards the precipice of your orgasm, his cock in your pussy, his hot breath on your neck, his hands roaming your body like a starved beast. The smell of his rich, musky cedar cologne and the hint of fresh, male sweat. And his eyes, devouring everything his hands didn’t touch. 

“I-I’m gonna…fuck, Bucky -” you stammered. You were so close. 

“I got you,” Bucky answered breathlessly, his flesh hand moving down between your legs to stroke your clit in fast, tight circles. 

You keened, vision blurring as your muscles seized, teetering on the edge. You faintly registered your own expression in the mirror in front of you, mouth falling open, eyebrows scrunching and a crimson flush high on your cheeks. 

You heard Bucky groaning behind you and trembled at the sound. 

“Fuck, there you go, baby, fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking - tight, god damn -”

And then Bucky was wrenching your face to the side and kissing you. And maybe it was the way his hips stuttered as you moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was the possessiveness with which he pushed his tongue into yours. Maybe it was the way his metal hand gripped you tighter as you started shaking, or maybe it was the sheer desperation in his kiss as he herded you over the edge that truly made you feel beautiful in that moment. Beautiful and blissed out as you spasmed on his cock, hearing his choked grunt as you pulled his orgasm right out of him.

You felt him throb in turn with you, his cum pooling hot deep inside you, the both of you nearly falling off your damn feet as you came together, the kiss disintegrating to a mere sloppy tangle of breaths and tongues.  

As you slowly came down from your high, your mind started whirring. Halfway preparing for Bucky to pull out and leave swiftly. To maybe give you a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, to push the skirt of your dress down over your ass and then make his exit from this very public bathroom. It wasn’t that you thought Bucky was some kind of sleaze, but it would be okay if he left it at that. You were a big girl, you knew people got carried away during a rowdy fuck, and if he left it at this, you would be fine. You told yourself as much, at least…

But Bucky didn’t leave. He didn’t pull out right away, either. Once you could both catch your breath, he reiterated his kiss, slow and thorough and breathtaking all anew. His metal hand firmly secured your face to meet his and his flesh hand gave your clit a few more gentle swirls, and you could feel his smile, fascinated and playful against your mouth as you jolted at the sensation. Whimpering a little at the overstimulation but keeping yourself completely still for it anyway, you were astonished by how sensitive you were and how fucking good it felt to have Bucky teasingly play with you as you basked in the afterglow. 

You squeezed around his cock still lodged inside you, and he gave a little grunt in response. 

“Careful, sugar, or I might get hard again,” he murmured against our lips, rolling his hips gently into your ass. 

“Is…is that supposed to deter me?” you asked, your snarky tone just a little undermined by the way you gasped. 

He groaned at that, low and pleased. 

“I suppose it should…at least until I can get you out of this fucking bathroom and into a bed,” he murmured, and a surge of adrenaline went through you. He wanted to do this again?

A small thought in the back of your mind wondered how it was possible that no one had come in and interrupted you by now, but it was quickly pushed away as Bucky gently pulled himself out of you. You tried to conceal the shiver of arousal that went through you as you felt his cum leak out of you and down the inside of your thighs. 

“Stay like that,” he whispered, removing himself and the fucking furnace of warmth that had been plastered to your back. The cold air hitting your back made you realize just how naked and exposed you were, your dress a scrunched up tangle low on your waist. 

You didn’t have time to become self-conscious though, before Bucky was back, kneeling behind you. Peaking over your shoulder, you were just in time to see him wipe a damp hand towel up your thigh and gently across the puffy, sensitive mess between your legs. You flushed for an entirely new reason now. It was just so…intimate, and sweet and generous and you struggled to handle the care and tenderness with which Bucky thoroughly cleaned both his mess and yours. 

You watched him quietly as he cleaned you up, and then as he seemingly couldn’t help himself from bending forward and kissing your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe a small lick to your still sensitive clit. You yelped, hips bucking away. 

He shushed you gently and kissed your ass cheek soothingly, fitting the admittedly soggy fabric of your panties back over your pussy before getting on his feet again. With gentle hands, he turned you around, and your eyes went wide as you looked down to see his cock still hanging out of his fly, already back to full hardness. 

Bucky followed your shocked expression down and chuckled. 

“Yeah, I know,” he said, hands still cradling your shoulders, moving up to knead the muscle between your shoulders and neck, and you hummed in pleasure, eyes falling close. 

“Does that always happen?” you asked, feeling the soreness in the muscles ease up under Bucky’s dexterous fingers. 

“No,” he answered simply, and you could tell by his tone that it meant something. That it lent itself to everything he’d said about you and the supposed attractiveness you held to him. You kept your eyes closed and bit your lips to keep from smiling too broadly at that. 

Feeling emboldened, you reached for him, hands finding his clothed chest and stroking down until you reached his cock, wrapping a tentative fist around its stiff heat. 

You heard Bucky suck in a breath, and then his hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight as he thrust his hips lightly a few times, pumping his cock gently through your fist. You were ready to go again by the time he gently pried your hand away and groaned like he was being gently tortured. 

You couldn’t help your pout, opening your eyes to find him gazing at your face. 

“I want to take care of you, too,” you complained, and the gentle whine of your tone sounded so small and decidedly submissive, certainly not fitting the badass work persona you’d built. It just suddenly felt so safe to be a bit whiny with him. 

Bucky only stepped closer and cradled your face in his hands. 

“I’ll let you take care of me later, sweet thing, to your heart’s content. For now, tuck me back in and we can get outta here,” he drawled, Brooklyn accent soothing his tone and lulling you to comply, pacified by his promise to let you take care of him soon. 

You did as he said, tucking his hard cock back into his pants and doing up his fly and belt as he watched your face intently, no doubt seeing the way your eyes grew hazy, your breath labored and your face flushing all anew at the way he held you while you handled him. You let your hands linger over his bulge when you were done, dying to take him out again and just do whatever he wanted to make him feel good. 

Soon, you told yourself, soon. 

“Now, I would like to swing you one last time on that dance floor out there, let everyone see that gorgeous leg through that deadly split in your skirt. And then I want everyone to see you leave on my arm, before I take you back to mine and take care of you properly,” Bucky said, voice even and sure and smile so dashing, you couldn’t help but smile back and nod in enthusiastic agreement. 

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #dom!bucky barnes #dom!bucky barnes x reader

[adventuringblind]

Monsters in my Mind

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Sometimes those thoughts won't leave, the ones you don't want... The ones that can be dangerous. All it takes is one person to help make them go away.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, referenced/implied self-harm, violent thoughts, impulsive behaviors, panic attacks, non-sexual dominance as a form of coping, dom/sub undertones

Notes: My thoughts are self stabby as of late. Pardon me as I write this for myself to keep my head and hands busy.

Side Note: Consider feeding my praise kink maybe...?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The head is a strange place. One's conscious is usually meant to help them make the right decisions and not engage in acts that could hurt them or others. Her head, however, is the opposite of that.

It's a dark twisted place where thoughts that aren't her own find refuge. They want to bathe her in the ecstasy of things that shouldn't feel good. daydreams about things that could repulse any typical human being.

Sometimes they are so strong and her bodies reactions are so out of control, that she has to find relief somewhere. The knife against her skin takes the edge off. Is it normal to moan at the sting and feel satisfied looking at her red stained thighs? She does, until the realization settles in and the guilt won't let her think.

The thoughts laugh at her for giving in so easily. They scrutinize the fact she gets off on the pain.

She walks around in fear of herself. The anxiety and exhaustion from constantly fighting herself are visible on her body. She's tired, and everyone knows it. It's why they don't come near her. Always to caught up in her own head to realize people are trying converse.

It's not like her job requires to much discussion with people. Puzzles keep her brain busy and Ferrari keeps her busy with all the strategy mishaps they throw at her. They throw her a problem, she solves it, plans for next time, and they fuck it up again by not using the solution.

Sometimes she thinks about throwing herself in front of an F1 car going full speed. That voice in her head screams at her anytime she's close to the live track.

Then there is Max. His voice sends the thoughts running and it makes her want to cling to him. She wants him to never stop talking about anything and everything.

Today had been particularly difficult with the of the driver switch coming at the end of the season. Carlos and Charles are the first drivers she's worked with and they all got along great. She doesn't want it to change. That means more unknowns.

The wind graces her cheeks and kisses her finger tips as she sits on the balcony of their apartment. Everything is to much right now and her thoughts won't quiet.

She was in Maranello when the news came out. Her head became so loud with the fear of change and worry for her friend. Enough to be sent home for the day - alone, and nothing to help her head aside from the burning desire to just end it all.

Max had made arraignments for her to spend some time with him in the Milton-Keynes. She was still alone for periods of time. Enough to have to settle herself somehow.

The color red makes something in her relax. Specifically when it's flowing out of her own body.

Now Max is with her and she's stuck in her own head. The never ending maze of twisted thoughts keeps her from moving. The fear of giving in has been looming over her head for longer then normal. It feels like she's losing something, always has been with this team, but change feels far worse then staying with them.

Max hasn't pushed her to do much aside from at least stay in his presence. Occasionally attempting to get her out of her own head with movies and games. He's even spent hours at a time just talking to her about anything and everything.

He opens the door to the balcony, but she doesn't look at him. Not until he holds his hand out for her to take. An action she does without hesitation. No thoughts are needed for this, just following Max's lead.

He leads her over to the couch and arranges them so she can sit tucked into his lap. A grounding hand runs up and down the lenght of her spine. "I've been doing some research about how we might be able to get your head to quiet down."

"I'll do anything, jus' want it to stop." Her voice sounds dry and cracked from how hard she's screamed and cried through the last few days.

"Do you trust me?"

"More then I trust anyone."

She finds herself slipping off the couch and onto her knees, in-between Max's legs with her head resting against his thigh. His touch doesn't leave her skin. "You're doing so good for me. Listen to my voice and focus on taking big breathes for me. Can you do that for me?"

She hums in response. The continual stroke of Max's fingers against her face and sound of his voice already helping immensely.

"That's it, just breathe for me. I've got you; you don't have to fight the thoughts alone. I'm right here with you, keeping them away, never leaving your side." Max grabs one of her hands with his free one. her fingers lay between his. Her favorite puzzle with how easy the pieces fit together.

"You're here with me; I've got you. Those scary thoughts aren't your own. The are unwanted and uninvited, but most importantly, they don't define you. You are brave, loved, beautiful without gaping wounds. You're not crazy or psychotic. You are yourself, with your highs and your lows."

Her body has never felt like this. Her entire being wants to give itself over to Max. His breathes guiding her own, his gentle yet firm hold on her keeping her where he wants.

She lets herself fall under his spell. If Max can take the control away from her, make her complaint and relaxed like this, then he can have her thoughts too.

"That's it, such a good girl, let me think for you. I won't leave you to fight or flounder on your own."

She follows Max's directions, lets him guide her in this place of trust and letting go of things. He's turning her brain off and letting her float without any kind of worries except what Max is telling her to do.

Until all she can think of is him. The calm the comes with his presence and the way his voice falls over her like a soft blanket. Max is all she knows, occupying every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for anything else to creep in.

"How're you feeling, geliefd?" There is a lightness to his tone that makes her swoon.

She hums against his leg. "Warm, fuzzy, head empty."

"Then you stay here as long as you need, okay? I'll keep you safe."

And she does.

She falls into the warm embrace of Max's words. She lets him protect her and keep the dark ugly thoughts away.

With Max, her head is quiet. The voices can't come though. When they do, he's there to fight them back.

#x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #fanficion #f1 fanfic #racing #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x y/n #mv1 imagine #mv33 #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 x you #redbull #redbull racing #redbull f1 #redbull max #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ferrari

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Your Mihawk has me weak on my knees so I wanted to request something for him.

S/O has scars on her body, mainly on arms. She does fight but some of them look… too precise. One time after she loses a fight she is really pissed and nervous, she goes to a place alone. There he sees her just giving herself a scar with a knife on her arm. Turns out she was taught scars are signs of losses and if she doesn't get one in battle then afterwards she needs to do it herself. That's why she's so determined to always win. She hates scars.

@patisilence tagging since I'm not sure if you'll get this since I had to save it as a draft to format everything right.

Anyway.

I DID IT I ACTUALLY FINISHED IT

I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG 😭😭

And I honestly really really want to thank you. This is my first ever fic-request, for one.

And also, writing this has been an absolute emotional rollercoaster. I have kind of a personal history with self-harm and I wanted to depict it as realistically as possible. Which resulted in heavy focus on character development, which resulted in this practically turning into a novella. I'm going to split it up into a few chapters to streamline things and link them all in this post.

If I do it right, then the entire thing should already be posted when I post this, but I'm still pretty new to Tumblr so bear with me. Each chapter should be between 3k-4k words.

And ALSO ALSO I've been planning a longer Mihawk X OC fic, and I really hope you don't mind me using this concept for it? Because it honestly ties a lot of things together for me

Soooooo without further ado, here's the whole author note thing.

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 1

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 2

Ch.3

You were hiding something.

In the few months that Mihawk had known you, he had come to learn a fair bit about you. He knew, for instance, that you had over the past few years made something of a name for yourself as a sword for hire, typically among pirate crews who required a more discreet touch.

That this reputation of yours had led the Buggy Pirates to hire you to assist in stealing a map of the Grand Line from a Marine base in Shells Town. You had failed to procure the map before it was stolen by other hands, leaving you in their debt. Buggy had sunk your sloop to prevent your escape, and you had gotten stuck working for the ridiculous crew for a brief time, remained stuck with them until the Strawhat upstarts offered you passage with them.

Mihawk knew you had traveled with them as far as Baratie, where you had crossed his own path for the first time at the bar on the ship's deck. Where you had approached him with a bargain—if he left Roronoa Zoro alive after their duel the following morning, you would serve him for a year, an errand girl to send off on whatever menial tasks the World Government assigned him.

"And why would I want a little bird flitting around after me around for an entire year?" Mihawk had asked coolly.

And yet you had made a fair point—acting as a government lapdog was growing old. He had been sent after the vice admiral's grandson, for heavens' sake, as if he had nothing better to do with his time than to handle the old fool's family disputes.

Though the surly pirate warlord wouldn't have dared to dream of admitting it at the time, you had his attention. Your offer of unquestioned devotion, your confident demeanor as you sipped a glass of whiskey and kept your eyes on his without showing an ounce of fear or intimidation. You were certainly an interesting diversion from the otherwise dull task that had been laid before him, and your certainty that he would accept your offer had irritated and intrigued him in near equal measure.

It was intrigue that won out in the end. He had left his challenger clinging to the edge of life and taken you with him on his departure. You stayed toe to toe with him in wit and banter, and that alone would have been more than enough to draw him closer to your charm. He had wanted you before two weeks were out, wanted to claim you as far more than his "errand girl," and it was easy to see from the way you effortlessly returned his subtle flirtations that you wanted the same.

And now you were lying back across his broad chest in the hammock aboard your new sloop, a book open over your chest and his hand resting over your stomach, his other tucked under his neck as he frowned thoughtfully up at the roof of the small ship's cabin, pondering over the whirlwind of events that had led up to this moment.

It had been just over two months since the pirate lord had taken you as his lover, and you had been an open book about most things. Your training under your grandmother. Your setting out on your own from a small island village to find your parents, or some clue of their disappearance. The many and varied pirate crews you had served as a hired hand.

Yet you refused to discuss your scars.

Any seafarer with a history as sordid as your own had their share of battle scars. Mihawk had a fair few of his own; one didn't become the most renowned swordsman in the world without a few losses, after all. Yet your voice turned to clear contempt when yours were mentioned, even in passing, and you tensed like a statue when his hands brushed over them. You were confident to the point of near arrogance, yet you clearly held nothing but shame and contempt for the many marks that marred your delicate skin.

Some of which appeared oddly...uniform, for having been gained in battle.

It was in part—in great measure, honestly—the mystery of you that had drawn him in to begin with, and this was just another mystery that Mihawk intended to unravel.

You closed your book abruptly, stirring him from his thoughts as he glanced down at you. He watched you gaze thoughtfully toward the ceiling for a long moment, your hand resting over his at your stomach, before you finally spoke up.

"Reading a book is just staring at a dead tree and vividly hallucinating."

You tilted your head back, grinning as his mouth turned down in a frown and his brow furrowed at your ridiculous statement. Mihawk sighed wearily, plucking the book from your hands and lightly rapping you over the forehead with it.

"No," he scolded, as you giggled softly. He sighed heavily again, dropping the book over the back of the hammock before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to give me a stroke?"

"No," you said, imitating his scolding tone. You stretched your arms out over your head, arching your back for a moment, before rolling over to lay across his chest and brush your lips to his. "But it's fun seeing the look on your face."

"You irritate my very soul, little one," he said, shaking his head as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"And I enjoy every second of it," you countered, grinning as you laid your forehead against his.

"I can tell."

Your grin managed to draw a small smile from him, before he lifted a hand into your hair and pulled you down into a slow, deep kiss. Your fingertips came to rest at his broad shoulders, the hammock swaying slowly in the steady ocean waves carrying the ship along. He knew as well as you did that he wasn't honestly irritated—your strange sense of humor had grown on him, as starkly as it contrasted to his dry sarcasm, and he rarely had the pleasure of meeting anyone as adept at keeping up with his own banter.

You lay your cheek at his shoulder when your lips parted, your eyes slipping shut and your contented sigh tickling against his neck.

"If the wind holds steady it will be a few hours before we make port," you said, your voice low and soft. "I suggest we don't move from here in the meantime."

"I'm not sure I've ever heard a finer suggestion."

Mihawk pulled one of your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. He pulled his hat down over his eyes to block out the sun pouring through the windows of the small cabin, tucked his hand back behind his neck again, and shifted beneath you to get comfortable as he closed his eyes. His arm remained curled around your waist, his hand slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt so his thumb could rub slow circles over your soft skin as you both drifted off toward the peaceful recess of sleep.

The first thing that struck Mihawk when he woke was that you weren't in his arms.

Every day and night for nearly two months, he had fallen asleep and woken with you against him, and the absence of your warmth jarred him instantly awake and aware. His eyes scanned around his surroundings as he sat up, taking in where he was—the small cabin of the sloop he had recently bought you as a replacement for the one Buggy's crew had sunk.

His sharp yellow eyes darted toward the door, taking in the sound of unfamiliar, muffled voices outside the cabin.

He was standing in an instant, straightening his hat and pulling Yoru onto his back as he slipped silently through the door and onto the small deck of the sloop.

There was another sloop tethered to yours.

A pair of no-name pirates holding you against the bow ny your arms, their captain pressing the barrel of his pistol to your forehead as they bickered.

"There has to be something on board."

"We could just take her. Looks like she's probably a feisty little thing."

"Still have to check the cabins. Could be—"

Mihawk cleared his throat.

The trio turned their heads in almost comedic synchrony, their jaws dropping at the mere sight of him leaning against the door of the cabin. Mihawk's eyes flickered from them to you, and you averted your eyes, clearly ashamed to be seen in such a compromising situation.

So he shifted his gaze back to the opposing pirates, his eyes flickering between each of them.

"You will remove your hands from the girl or I will gladly remove them for you," he said levelly, lifting his eyebrows.

They quickly let go of your arms, and stepped away when he moved forward to wrap a hand around your wrist and pull you to him. He curled his arm around your waist, lowering his head over yours for a moment and murmuring quietly, "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head no quickly, your jaw set at a rigid angle as you turned your gaze down to your feet, your shoulders tense. He pressed a light kiss to your temple for a long moment before lifting his gaze back to the trio that had dared board your ship, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken threat.

"Go." They remained frozen, glancing between each other. "Now."

They scrambled back over to their ship immediately, severing the ropes that were tethering it to yours. Mihawk kept his arm around you, but his eyes remained trained onto the opposing sloop as it drifted away on the wind, debating on just drawing his sword and splitting it in half on the spot.

He turned his attention back down to you when you began to pull away from him. He pulled you in close again, frowning. It wasn't at all like you to be bested by a few no-names, and it was clear that you weren't taking it very well.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally.

"I woke up," you said curtly. "Thought I'd check the charts and see how far we were from Shells Town. They were already on the deck. Seemed to think this was a small merchant vessel since there's no flag. I'd left my knives in the cabin and I was still half asleep when I came out here. By the time I registered what was going on, one of them had a pistol to my head."

You really weren't making a very good case for him to not sink their boat. He cut his eyes briefly toward the sloop before looking back down at you, your face shadowed by your hair as you stared down at the deck floor.

"Their captain started questioning me about cargo," you continued. "Told them there wasn't anything valuable on board. They were discussing taking me as compensation." You sighed heavily. "And that's when you chose to enter stage left and take approximately twenty years off the end of their lives."

He rolled his eyes the slightest bit at your quip. "I would have taken a great deal more than that had they hurt you."

"Well, they didn't," you replied, your voice still curt. Mihawk lifted an eyebrow. "And it's perhaps best not to go splitting any boats in half a stone's throw away from a naval base," you added, nodding back toward the bow of the vessel.

Mihawk gave a quick glance as well. He had been too focused on the fiasco he had just awoken to to notice that Shells Town was visible on the horizon now. It wasn't as if the Marines could do much about it if he did sink the sloop, but you were right—it would still be more of a hassle than it was worth. He sighed, shaking his head a little, and curled a hand under your chin to lift your gaze to his. You still kept your eyes averted, your jaw set. He hadn't seen you lose a fight before—apart from sparring with him while training, but that hardly counted.

You had proven to be quite the fighter when he had decided to test you. You were nowhere near his equal, but you knew precisely how to play to your strengths with your pair of daggers and your throwing knives. Your stature made you difficult to target even in single combat, your movements a graceful dance that toed the line between evasion and power.

Yet one loss—and a rather inconsequential loss, at that—and you were beating yourself up over it quite a great deal more than what constituted normalcy. Mihawk wasn't sure whether to scold you for being dramatic or attempt to comfort you.

"You were caught off guard, little one," he said after a long moment, brushing a thumb across your cheek. "There's no need to be so upset over that."

"I'm not upset, I'm annoyed," you retorted, pursing your lips a little. "Blades or no, I should have been able to take care of those idiots."

"Annoyed, then," he allowed with a small sigh. "And I've no doubt you would have had I not woke. I was simply able to handle it a bit more...subtly."

"Oh, yes, because sauntering out onto the deck with a giant sword and threatening to cut off their hands was so subtle," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you finally rolled your eyes over to his, lifting your eyebrows.

"Don't be a brat," he chided lightly. "We still have at least half an hour before we make port." Mihawk abruptly wrapped his hand around your chin and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss that made you draw in a sharp breath. He parted just as you started to lean into it, resting his forehead against yours. He lowered his voice to an intimate murmur. "I would truly hate to have to spend it punishing you, my little bird."

You quirked an eyebrow, your lips curving in a small, coy smirk. "No you wouldn't."

He gave you a thoughtful frown and a small shrug of his shoulder. "Perhaps not." You let out a small cry of alarm when he stooped down and quickly scooped you up from the deck floor, one arm beneath your knees and his other curled around your back. "I suppose we'll just have to find out."

You chuckled lightly as he carried you to the door of the main cabin, plucking his hat off of his head and placing it on your own as you brushed your lips to his in a soft, teasing manner. Mihawk lifted his eyebrows when you nipped lightly at his bottom lip.

"You're really pushing your luck, my dear," he cautioned.

He lowered you down to the double bed in the cabin, his thumb rubbing small circles at the back of your neck. You lifted yourself onto your elbows, your lips nearly brushing his before he pulled back just far enough to stop you, lightly gripping your hair at the nape of your neck to keep you from sitting up any higher. You gave a small whine of protest, but didn't try to struggle against his grip—you and he both knew there was no point.

"Lie down." His voice remained low and intimate, but there was a subtle command in his tone, in the way his gaze burned into your own. You bit your bottom lip lightly, lowering yourself back down onto the bed fully. A soft, quivering sigh left your lips as he slowly began slipping the buttons down the front of your shirt loose. "Hands over your head. And you don't move them an inch until I tell you you can."

"Mmm..." You hummed thoughtfully, and Mihawk paused in unbuttoning your shirt as you lifted your arms from the bed, holding your hands high above you, straight up in the air. "I think my arms might end up getting tired."

Your lips pursed a little, clearly struggling to keep a straight face, and he lifted an eyebrow at you. "You're certainly in rare form today."

Mihawk wrapped his hand around both of your wrists, shoving your hands down into the plush white comforter over your head, and a couple giggles escaped you before you bit your lip again. It was honestly a bit endearing, how cheeky you were being—and all the moreso, as it appeared you were being so brazen just so he could have his fun with your punishment.

You were enticing him more and more every passing day, beyond the physical desire that had led him to claim you as his a couple months ago. It wasn't a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, nor was he quite sure what to make of it yet. He knew only that when he had seen you held captive against the bow of the boat, an emotion had flashed through him for a moment that he hadn't experienced in years.

For the briefest moment, Dracule Mihawk had felt fear.

He was not ready to contend with the connotations of that.

And he was a bit too busy at the moment, anyway. He let his forehead touch yours, his lips hovering a breath away from your own.

"You don't move your hands," he repeated, tilting his head to just barely graze his lips against your neck, drawing a small moan from your lips, "until I give you permission. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..." you sighed softly, your eyes slipping shut as he kissed down your collarbone, pushing your shirt open. His hand released your wrists and trailed down your arms, down to knead at the soft tissue of your breast through the sheer lace of your bra, feeling your nipple harden against his palm. He tugged the cups down, just a bit too hard given he felt one of them tear in his grasp, but that was a problem for later, not now.

You gasped out when he briefly pulled one of your stiff nipples into his mouth, his grip tightening slightly around your ribcage as you arched your chest toward his swirling tongue. His gaze flicked up to watch you writhe and shudder under his touch, your fingers digging into the bedsheets behind you, your hands searching for anything to keep occupied with.

"Very good," he praised, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes and brushing his lips to your jaw. "You see?" He wrapped his hand around your jaw and lightly pressed his lips to yours. "It's much better when you're a good little bird, isn't it?"

"This—doesn't feel much like a punishment," you commented, gasping softly as he circled the pad of his thumb around your nipple, lightly skimming across it once or twice.

"Yet," he corrected.

And gave you a small, devilish smirk, before lowering his head and biting down on the tender skin at the crook of your neck. Just hard enough to leave behind a small bruise, to draw a sharp cry from your lips and send a shiver through your body.

He straightened out as you heaved a sigh, standing over you. Your eyes remained glued to him while he shrugged away his long coat and tossed it back into a chair behind him, noting how your hands tightened down on the bedsheets again.

"Remember we still have a half an hour before we reach Shells Town." His fingertips curled around the waist of your shorts, the lace of your panties beneath them, and slowly inched them down your hips. "I could spend the entirety of it teasing you." Mihawk noted the movement in your throat as you swallowed in nervous anticipation, your eyes glued to his as he pulled them up the length of your legs and off, flinging them aside. "Making you beg for release but never allowing you the satisfaction."

How beautiful it was that it only took a few words to pull a blush to your cheeks and make your breath hitch. He brushed a light kiss to your calf and pushed your legs apart, rubbing his palms up your inner thighs.

"You're going to have to be on your best behavior if you want more, my sweet little bird." Trailing a single finger up your soft folds, dragging through your slick arousal and across your clit, pulling a small whimper from your lips. "Or would you rather I just torment you?"

You bit your lip, shaking your head quickly, your eyes flickering between his eyes and his fingertips trailing up. It was a struggle for him not to chuckle at you—always just cheeky enough to be amusing, but you knew the pleasure he could give you, were so desperate for it that you folded like a cheap deck of cards under his slightest touch.

Absolutely perfect.

Mihawk moved his hands up from your thighs, curling an arm under your back to lift you up and shift you further back on the bed. Your breathing was ragged with anticipation as he brushed his lips to your stomach, trailing his hands back down to your hips, his lips lower and lower, grazing slowly across the soft skin between your hip bones.

Shifting lower and dragging his tongue slowly up your slit, circling the sensitive bud at the apex, giving a quiet growl of approval as your breathy, shuddering moans filled the small cabin and your hips arched in his hands.

His gaze turned up toward your face, watching you draw closer to falling apart with every passing moment. This was only the beginning, and he still hadn't decided if he was going to give you what you wanted...but the sight of your divine, nearly naked and writhing under his touch with his hat still resting on your head made him just a little weak.

He moved from between your legs before he could get lost in the sight of you and the sweet sounds of your moans, reveling in the agonized whimper that left you as he trailed his mouth back up your stomach.

Across to your ribs, pausing at your breasts to brush his lips and his skilled tongue across your sensitive nipples.

Dragging his tongue up the column of your throat, seizing a fistful of your hair and crushing his lips to yours in a deep, possessive kiss, shoving your hip down onto the mattress to keep you from grinding against him, shifting his hand between your thighs to circle a finger around your tight entrance without pushing in. Your low moans and whines of protest were like music to his ears, your knuckles gone white from the force with which you gripped at the sheets over your head to keep your hands from wandering.

Every slow pass up and down your body brought you closer to the peak of pleasure but never quite there—and brought him closer and closer to caving in and giving it to you. He had to wonder whether you had any idea just how much of a temptation you were to him. It had been years since the pirate lord had allowed any woman to affect him quite as strongly as you had.

How much time had passed couldn't be ascertained for sure when he reached his breaking point—his mouth pressed into the crook of your neck while you moaned and begged desperately in his ear, one of his hands squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise the soft flesh while his other worked his belt buckle open and shoved his pants down his hips in a desperation that rivaled yours.

He shoved your open shirt up your shoulders and arms and flung it away; gripped one of your thighs, pushing your leg up as high as it would go, and the low growl that left his throat as he thrust into you was drowned out by your own cries of abandon. Your hips arched up from the bed to meet his, one of your arms flinging around his neck and your hooking beneath his arm to grip hard at his shoulder.

"I don't recall giving you permission to move," he breathed into your neck. He gritted his teeth as he pushed his hips forward hard, shoving yours back down into the bed as you cried out again, your slick walls tightening around his cock.

"I—I'm sorry, I can't—I can't—please—" You gasped, your head falling back as he moved in you in deep, hard thrusts, your fingernails dragging down his back. "Oh God, please—"

He lifted a hand to grasp at your hair as he crushed his lips to yours, delving his tongue into your mouth and drawing in a deep breath as you moaned desperately into the fierce kiss. The prospect of punishing you, of what the hell he had even been punishing you for was forgotten in this rush of unquenchable lust and desire, of pure carnal need for your body.

He normally hated losing control, but this was on another level entirely. There was no room to hate this, no room for anything but pure pleasure, for getting lost inside you as your walls tightened around his cock, as every muscle in his groin tensed and tightened in anticipation of impending release—

Your lips breaking away from his, your cry of abandon as your climax swept over you pulled him right over the edge with you. He pulled your hip up from the bed to slam into you as he came, gritting his teeth against a low groan, the rhythmic contractions of your tight channel milking him dry. His hips jerked toward yours with each intense wave of pleasure, fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed his lips to your neck, the two of you shuddering and tangled together over the bedsheets.

Mihawk heaved a shuddering sigh into the crook of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair as he brushed his thumb across your temple. Maybe it was the lingering euphoria, but he didn't even think about the next words that left his mouth before he heard them himself.

"God dammit, (Y/N), I love you."

But it was impossible to deny any longer. You really were everything he had never realized he craved. No, it wasn't just the euphoria in the moment—it was that brief flash of fear earlier at the thought of you being hurt, at the thought of losing you. The utter fury at the morons who had briefly held you captive. How perfectly you balanced and complemented his desires.

He felt as much as heard you draw in a small gasp beneath him. "Y—you—wh—?"

"You heard me," Mihawk interrupted your quiet, almost cautious stammering, murmuring against your neck. He brushed his lips against one of the small, round bruises he had left on the soft skin, and said it again, quietly, "I love you."

You were quiet for a long moment, but he wasn't concerned, still trailing kisses up the side of your neck. He had seen it in your eyes before now, heard it in the softness of your voice when you lay against him, your fingers in his hair and your lips brushing his.

Several seconds passed, before you turned your head slowly and pressed your lips to his, tentatively at first, and then deepening the slow kiss with a soft sigh. He shifted onto his side, tugging you to him by your hip. Your forehead came to rest against his as your lips drifted apart, still barely a breath away, your eyes closed, your voice a quiet whisper.

"I...love you."

(Ch. 2)

#opla #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #fanfic #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #fluff #mihawk x reader #smut

[aanoia]

Definitely (Dying, pt. 2)

Poly!marauders x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader, Sirius Black x reader

Summary; a failed attempt and a year later, y/n is finally okay

Words; 1,800+

Warnings; srs tw, talk of drug abuse, suicide, self harm, I think that's all

Pt. 1, "Dying"

Really heavy topics, loves, please proceed with caution. I love you all!

It had been two months. The worst two months of their lives. The Marauders watched from afar as their now ex girlfriend killed herself, and said ex girlfriend had to watch as her lovers sat in each other's arms, basking in each other's presence. It was all too much. She couldn’t take it anymore. 

Today was a rare day where Y/n wasn’t on anything. Her system was clear and a bright smile was on her face. Almost everyone felt uncomfortable about the sudden change, wondering why she was suddenly… okay. Truth is she was the farthest from that that she’s ever been.

“Oh my gosh! Y/n, I love your necklace. Where did you get it?” Lily Evans, one of Y/n’s best friends, asked as Y/n sat down at the table. She sat as far away from the Marauders as she could, which proved difficult as Lily loved sitting next to them.

Y/n smiled and reached behind her head, swiftly unclasping the necklace and dangling it in front of Lily, “Here, have it.”

Lily shook her head, “Oh no, I couldn’t take it.”

“No, I swear it’s fine. It’s not really my style anyway. It’d look much better on you than me.” Y/n insisted and Lily hesitantly took the necklace. 

The thing is, that was Y/n’s favorite necklace. One her mom had given her when she was just a little girl, before she became a disappointment. The Marauders knew that. They shared uneasy looks, confused as to why she would so easily hand over her favorite possession, 

“Awh, that was sweet, Y/n.” Marlene said, admiring the golden necklace that now lay beautifully across Lily’s chest.

“Oh, here. You can have my bracelet. I always see you eyeing it.” She removed the bracelet and handed it to Marlene.

“Oh, thank you, Y/n. How kind.” She said with her brows furrowed.

“Of course.” Y/n responded with a smile.

It had been like that all day. She had given away everything that was complimented and constantly gave people hugs and told them she loved me. It was weird, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t only people close to her that noticed the unusualness either. It was classmates and teachers as well, even the paintings that lined the walls noticed a difference. It left an uneasy pit in everyone's stomach. 

That night, Remus sat at his desk with his hand holding up his head as he was deep in thought. 

James gently placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, “Moony? What’s going on in that head of yours?” James asked and Sirius perked up at the question, also wanting to know the answer.

Remus shook his head, “S’nothing.”

Sirius let out a short laugh, “You're full of shit. You’ve got that face. You only get that face when you’re thinking of something.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. He does have a thinking face.” James agreed and Sirius nodded.

“I know right, he goes like-” Sirius made an exaggerated facial expression.

“No, that looks nothing like him, dimwit. It’s like this-”  Remus tuned them out as they fought.

He went over every interaction Y/n had had that he witnessed throughout the day. She was acting so strange. Even before all the weed and drugs she never just gave away her possessions. She loved her things and held them close to her heart. So why was she giving it all away? And why was she suddenly showing so much affection? And why now? What changed? And why does Remus feel like he’s forgetting somethin-

Remus shot from his seat, “We need to find her. Now.” He said urgently before running out of the room, the boys paused before running after him, knowing exactly who “her” was. 

Remus hastily knocked on the door of Y/n’s dorm room, hoping she would open the door. Instead he was met with the sleepy face of Lily Evans and soft snores from Marlene who was cuddled up into Dorcas’ side. No Y/n.

“Remus?” She glanced behind him. “Sirius? James? What is it?”

“Is Y/n here?” He asked, dread filling his body.

Lily shook her head, “No, she said she was going up to the astronomy tower. Why?”

“I’ll tell you later, thank you.” He said before beginning to move again, but once they got down to the empty common room Sirius grabbed tightly onto his arm, stopping any movement. 

“Remus, what is going on? Why are you so worried?” Sirius asked.

“I think Y/n’s going to kill herself. The signs add up, giving away valuable possessions, being extra affectionate, and you know how her life is. We need to find her, now.” Sirius and James looked at each other before nodding. Sirius let go of Remus and all three sped to the astronomy tower, spending little to no time to think about not getting caught. Right now it was not a priority, their priority was Y/n.

They raced up the steps, not stopping as their lungs begged for air and legs ached for rest. Remus burst through the door and halted as his eyes lay on a silhouette standing at the edge of the tower, on the other side of the rails.

“Remus?” The figure asked, her voice hoarse and broken.

“Y/n, baby, please. Come here.” He begged as his boyfriends came in behind him.

“Y/n?” James asked tentatively. “Sweetheart, don’t do it.”

“Please, go away.” She asked, tears pouring from her eyes. They weren’t supposed to be here. “Please.” She whispered.

Sirius was the only one brave enough to step closer, “No. We let you leave once already, I won’t let you again.” He took another step.

“No, get away from me!” She cried, her sweaty hands slipping against the cool metal.

“Love.” Sirius said quietly, close enough to whisper to her. “It’s going to be okay, yeah?” She began to protest but he shook his head, shushing her while taking yet another step forward. “No, I know how hard that is to believe. But it will. And I- we- we will be there every step of the way. Come on, love, grab onto my hand.” He said quietly while stretching his hand out.

“I can’t do it anymore, Siri.” She whispered, her legs shaking.

“Yes you can.” He assured her immediately. “You can, I know of it. You are the strongest girl I’ve met. I know you can stay here. With me. And Remus. And James. I know you can.”

“But the weed and-and the alcohol, even if I don’t know, I’ll kill myself!” 

“Then we’ll work together to get sober. Y/n, my love, it’s not impossible for you to be happy. I need you to realize that. You can be happy, and you are worthy of being happy. Now hold my hand, please.” He asked again, tears stinging his eyes. She hesitantly grabbed his hand and let him help her over the rails.

The moment her feet touched the ground of the astronomy tower she collapsed in tears and the three immediately engulfed her in a warm hug. She sobbed in their arms for what felt like hours, but the boys didn’t care. She needed love, and they were going to give it to her. 

Once her cries quieted to small sniffles Remus pulled away and gently placed his hand on her tear stained cheek, wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Hey, baby.” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Whatever for?” 

“Being such a bitch to you guys and pushing you.” She said, her eyes cast downward as guilt filled her body.

“It’s alright, my love. We’ve already forgiven you.” Sirius responded, the boys nodding along with him. 

“We just want you to be okay.” James said, his arms wrapped loosely around her neck as he placed a soft kiss on her temple.

Y/n nodded slowly, “I wanna be okay too.”

“You will be okay.”

A year later, Y/n smiled at Lily as she sat down at the table in the morning. 

“Good morning, Lily, how did you sleep?”

Lily snorted, “I would’ve slept better if a few girls in my dorm didn’t stop gossiping all night.”

Y/n and Marlene looked at each other with smirks.

“Oh, how rude of them.” Marlene said.

“Truly a tragedy.” Y/n agreed, grabbing a piece of toast. “Does anyone know where my boyfriends are?” She asked, looking around the table.

“Probably doing something dumb.” Dorcas said and Y/n nodded.

“I believe it.” 

The doors to Great Hall opened and in walked Sirius Black. He walked to the Gryffindor table and stood behind his girlfriend, leaning down.

“We need you outside, please, Ms. L/n.” He said, sending shivers down the girl's spine.

“Oh, really?” She asked.

He kissed her cheek, “Yes, ma’am. Shall I escort you?” He asked, standing straight and holding out his hand.

She grabbed his hand, “You shall.” She stood up and let out a small yelp as Sirius quickly tugged her along. Y/n laughed as they sped down the hallway, making Sirius smile. Her laugh truly was music to his ears.

The left the castle and Sirius brought her to a little picnic blanket which her other two boyfriends were lounging on while conversating.

“Ah, look at our girl.” James said as he noticed them approaching.

“Guys, what is this?” Y/n asked with wide eyes as Sirius pushed her down gently, urging her to sit.

“Well, I do believe it’s a picnic.” Remus answered with a grin.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “No, I mean what’s it for?”

“Ah, great question. Today marks one year of you being sober, and we wanted to show you how proud of you we are.” Sirius explained and Y/n smiled.

“Guys, thank you. I love you all so much.”

“We love you too.” James responded.

“Oh! Hagrid made a cake. We didn’t ask him too, but he handed it to us and told us to make sure it got to you.” Remus said, handing Y/n a box.

Y/n smiled as she read what was on the cake. 

‘PROWD OF YOU, Y/N!’

“Awh, Hagrid is so sweet.” Y/n said with a large smile.

“We’re proud of you too, by the way.” James said, putting his head on her lap.

Sirius grabbed Y/n’s hand, “I told you you were the strongest girl I knew.”

Pride swelled in Y/n’s chest. She had come so far in just a year. She had walked through hell and came back alive, barely, but still alive. She had cut off contact from her parents, much to their dismay as now their scapegoat had left, however they didn’t put in the effort to keep her around. During the summer before seventh year she stayed in the spare bedroom at the Potter house, going under strict rules of doors open at all times if she and James were together, or any of them if the other two came over. Y/n was more than okay, she was happy. She healed. Was it hard? Maybe. Was it worth it? 

Definitely.

Tag list;

@duruxoxo @mars-marley @siriuslydestiny @gagafatale @lestat-whore @1hornyforfictionalmen1 @megluv1 @takem3tothelakes @fictionalmensblog @ssaspencerreidswife

#aanoia #romance #james potter x reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders x reader #poly marauders angst #poly marauders #marauders era #marlene mckinnon #the marauders #marauders map #sirius black x reader #sirius black #x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus loves sirius #james & peter & remus & sirius

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

oh boy it's done! Sorry this chapter is mostly exposition and info-dumping nothing fun is really happening here. Thank you guys for the comments I loved reading them!

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major)

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, this is part 3, part 4

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Reader's stomach turned but they tried to take even breaths.

This was ridiculous there was no evidence or proof. The manhunt was the most solid counterargument. If they were the Creator they would not have been hunted. Reader folded their hands and looked challengingly at Nahida. Try to prove it.

Nahida must have understood so she continued to talk.

"I admit I was confused at first I had assumed it was Reader who got the blessing as they had previously been able to control the acolytes, yet I was wrong. Due to Darling always controlling the vessels most of the time and due to the current Creator's presence being so weak even I managed to mix it up and I apologize for that."

She looked over at Reader with sincerity it made Reader uncomfortable enough to shift on their seat, and then she did the unimaginable, she stood up and bowed.

"Please don't I am not some creator you don't have to bow!" Reader said and jumped out of their seat.

Nahida stopped and looked over at Reader with a sorrowful expression.

"Your grace it is only fair, this was long overdue."

"No! you are wrong it still makes no sense it made more sense when it was Darling!"

"You may deny it but the more I spent with you, the closer I was with you, the clearer I felt it, your powers yet small like a budding seed are still there."

Shit she even brought up an allegory, is she being serious. From their peripherals, they could see Darling's uncomfortable expression. Reader pinched the bridge of their nose and exhaled.

"I don't feel any different though and there is so much wrong with that. I am not some creator."

Reader wanted to get up and sleep their hands felt twitchy and there was something buzzing in their skin. They needed to get out.

"Reader y'know have you. . . checked your blood yet?"

It was the first time Darling spoke in a while.

"What do you even mean, it's been red my whole life? Heck, you have seen me bleed multiple times as kids."

"I know, I know but maybe things changed when you entered this world when you were. . . you know hunted down," she quieted down at the last part, "D-did. . . you bleed?"

"N-no," Reader wrung their hands together," not really I got help from the monster and hilichurls with running away,"

Nahida made a sound of protest at hearing Reader's statements and looked down in guilt. There was a tense silence lasting only for a few seconds Reader just knew what Darling was about to say.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to check hey!-"

Reader jumped up and strode towards the kitchen cabinets taking out a knife.

"Y-your grace please wait-"

It was the first time Reader had heard Nahida stutter usually the Archon was so well-spoken and eloquent. Was it another thing she had to learn trying to fit the mold of the Archon of Wisdom?

"I have cut myself plenty of times when I first learned to cook it won't hurt."

They bought a knife towards the thumb and sliced it.

Clank.

The knife fell-

With it, golden blood fell down the floor as well.

Shit.

"Shit," Darling said.

Nahida sucked in a sharp breath.

"Your grace, please give me your hand we can't leave that be."

The Archon hurried over and opened her palms, their body moving in auto-mode as they crouched down and took Nahida's hand. Feeling what Reader thought was a small burst of dendro energy their small cut healed instantly. Nahida looked even more relieved than Reader was when the cut was healed.

Reader for the most part stood dumbfounded on the kitchen floor while Nahida watched them worriedly.

"Reader, are you okay. . .?"

"Darling what the," they paused looking at Nahida's small form," Do I do?"

"I think you should sit down first," Darling replied with a worried look.

For the second time, all three sat on the kitchen table this time for different reasons.

The weight of the revelation was a heavy burden and Reader wondered what Darling felt wearing that title. They neither wanted nor needed such a burden. Reader scowled.

"Hey Reader I've been thinking," Darling paused and looked unsure, "Do you think. . . This happened because you created my account?"

"Huh? Wait what," They paused thinking for a second, "That might actually make sense. . ."

Reader looked at Darling as if she had just solved their entire life mystery. Nahida looked at the two with confusion.

Right.

"Well, this is going to be hard to explain."

"It is alright by me take your time your grace."

Reader tried not to grimace at being called "your grace", they swallowed and held their hands together. They tried to explain what a phone and computers were and then what video games were until they took a deep breath and admitted that Genshin Impact was a game as well. Nahida remained still and took it all in rather well, Reader wondered how someone would feel if they said that the reality you live in was just a video game. When they came to that part Nahida looked contemplative a finger was put against her mouth as she was thinking. Reader thought about what the Archon of Wisdom could possibly think of in a situation like this.

"So our world was a so-called 'video game' in your world."

"Yeah it's uhh, sorry it's kind of messed up," said Darling with a Grimace.

Reader agreed all they could do was play with their hands as they waited for Nahida's reply. Maybe she'd think they were lying or both had lost it. The whole thing sounded ridiculous when they said it out loud.

"I think I get the gist of it."

"R-really you believe us?"

Nahida looked at Reader and nodded.

"This is not the first time that stories or in your case a 'video game' was made by a dream from another universe."

"Wait what," Reader stared dumbly at Nahida.

"Dreams can sometimes garner insight into other realities while it is rare it can happen, I assume the ones who made the 'video game' called Genshin Impact simply dreamed of Teyvat."

Reader put a hand on their head and tried to understand what Nahida was saying, it still sounded unbelievable even after entering this world. nonetheless, Nahida continued

"Other people playing this 'video game' should not be able to have affected Teyvat except when it comes to your grace, the Creator. Later on, you made this account, as you called it, could count as authority being handed over to Darling or a form of blessing which made Darling be able to control acolytes. The device you used  in this case acted as a medium between two realities."

"O-Ohh. . . I am, I don't know what to say."

"This is mostly me guessing I can't say for sure if what I said is right, communicating between realities is extremely hard if not impossible but when it comes to your grace anything is possible," she said with a smile.

Seeing her smile Reader tried to relax a bit, stuff like this went over their head. Metaphysics was not their strong point. Reader rubbed their head.

"I don't get it but it also makes sense. . ." they paused, "also please just call me by my name I like to think we are friends now. . ."

Nahida looked at them with wide eyes but nodded with a happy smile.

"It is an honor and I like to think so too, Reader."

Reader smiled at hearing their name again from Nahida and the mood felt relaxing again. Reader suddenly felt exhausted the rain in the background lulling them. Nahida must have picked up their mood as they began to speak.

"This has been an exhausting day with many revelations, like a Snezhnayan doll we keep finding more dolls inside the ones we already opened."

"You know I am glad to hear you still speaking analogies."

"I am not sure why it does," she leans her head to the side," but if it makes you happy I am glad then."

Reader smiled at her.

"I think for now Darling should come back with me there is a guest room we could use, tomorrow will be a long day unfortunately I suggest we all try to get as much rest as we can."

Readed nodded and looked at Darling. Reader who hadn't talked to Darling in a long while before this day was a bit worried they knew Darling was usually not this quiet and well, demure. Where they were sitting they looked. . . Defeated.

Darling tried to look at them but they looked away, they knew what they would ask for. They did not want to or had no energy to entertain a sleepover with them. There was still much stuff unresolved on Readers part between them.

A cruel part of them was happy that they were hurting. Reader was hurt so Darling should hurt a bit too- they shut that part down. They did not want to indulge in cruel thoughts, They did not want to become someone cruel.

They had seen what cruel people were capable of.

Nahida bid farewell and took Darling with her. Reader said goodbye to the two and cleaned up the kitchen. Afterward, they headed to the bed.

They left the window open letting the breeze come in. A bird suddenly swooped in standing in the window sill looking at them curiously. Reader stared at the bird as well.

 

"Did you know?"

The bird did not answer.

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Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware au #self aware genshin #cult au #yandere #imposter au #sort of not really an imposter au #mentions of trauma #self harm in this chapter but nothing major #mentions of being hunted down #nahida #I am not sure what to feel about this chapter tbh #but it's done for now #please tell me about errors and mistakes so that I can fix them