#you deserve nothing but happiness and good health | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

novvabee · 1 month ago

Text

We're Just Glad You're Ok

summary: poly!marauders x reader, you have a sleep potion mishap

cw: sleep potion malfunction, passing out, health scare?, hospital, swearing a few times, i guess you can call some of it angst?

word count: 2.2k

You only had twelve hours left until this stupid potion needed to be ready in order to show Slughorn.

This potion had taken you over a month to complete, and here you were, down to the wire, rushing to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. You wanted the highest grade possible, and if you were being honest, thought that was what you deserved.

You didn’t even want to take advanced potion making, but in order to keep your prefect title, you had to be enrolled in at least three advanced classes, so you endured the tortuous stirring, grinding, and burning.

And this potion was your crowning achievement of this semester. You had spent countless nights brewing and stewing, not to mention the three failed attempts already.

You were attempting to brew a sleeping draught that would take only one drop to put anyone to sleep in under five minutes. It was practically unheard of, most sleep potions were an entire vial that would start to take effect somewhere between thirty minutes to an hour to set in, but you wanted to prove it could be done quicker and with less potion.

There were a few tricky ingredients that needed to be tweaked between all of your attempts, but you were certain that you had gotten it right this time.

You just wanted to be done with this, to get this project completed and wrap yourself in bed along with your boyfriends who you had been slightly neglecting due to this potion. It was taking up all of your time and you felt like you hadn’t seen Remus, James, or Sirius in ages. Once this project was turned in, you were more than happy to spend a few days doing absolutely nothing with your boys.

In your tired and overworked state, you must have forgotten to turn the burner down or maybe you added a drop too much of the chamomile extract, but before you could react, your potion exploded.

The liquid got everywhere, drenching your notes, your clothes, your hair, thankfully it smelled heavenly, but you froze.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath to yourself. Shit indeed. This wasn’t good. A singular drop of this was supposed to put any human to sleep, and you just drenched yourself in the concoction.

You knew that you needed to move fast. You had very little time before the potions fumes knocked you out, in fact, you could already feel the effects of the sleep draught taking hold. You shook your head and tried your best to power through. You knew that it was late, probably past midnight, which meant that no students would be roaming the halls, no one to see you if you passed out on the cold dungeon floors.

You frantically grabbed your sopping notebook and shoved it in your bag. You turned the burner off, not bothering to clean up or put any of the ingredients away. Slughorn could deal with it, you’d just explain to him what happened and why you rushed out without properly cleaning up after yourself.

You turned to make your way out of the room, but you felt the room spin with you. You caught yourself on a desk and made sure you had a strong footing. This was going to be incredibly difficult.

You fought your heavy eyelids and focused on getting out of the damn classroom. When you made it to the door, you about fell, the weight of your body becoming almost too much to handle.

You made a quick decision to turn right instead of left down the hall. Sure it was quicker to get to your dorm if you had gone left, but that also meant braving the moving staircases. You felt woozy even thinking about trying to make your way up those in this state, so you decided to go the long way, which at least would take you in front of the Slytherin common room. Maybe that way someone would find your incapacitated body.

You stumbled your way along the long narrow hallways, trying your best not to knock into any statues or painting. You were certain one of the paintings actually scolded you for waking it up, but you couldn’t quite focus your mind on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. Right, left, right.

You didn't know how much longer you could hold yourself up. Oh well, one night on a cold, hard castle floor wouldn’t kill you, right?

Through your hazy vision, you could make out a figure headed your way.

“Y/N?,” the voice called out. You weren’t sure if it was because of your current state or because of the acoustic castle walls, but the noise bounced around over and over, echoing and making you even more dizzy than you already felt.

You groaned and leaned yourself against the wall, the figure appearing in front of you. You forced yourself to look up and see who it was.

You were met with a very confused and concerned looking Regulus. The sight of him left you with a breath of relief. You don’t know why he was roaming the halls this late, but you were sure glad to have him now.

“Reggie,” you gasped. Time was running out quickly now.

“Y/N, are you alright? What happened?” he asked, dropping his bag and closing the gap between the both of you.

You felt your legs finally give and saw the hallway start to tilt. Regulus caught you quickly and helped you to the ground, laying you down softly but still worried.

“Reggie,” you started once again. You needed to tell him to get you to your dorm where you had countless antidotes and nullifying potions, at least to Slughorn who would know what to do, but fatigue was winning this battle. “Potion… exploded.” you managed to get out.

Regulus shook his head, still not understanding what was happening. “W-what potion? Y/N!”

You knew you were a goner now, your eyes had finally sealed themselves shut and your limbs were incredibly heavy with lethargy. The last thing you remembered was the words coming slowly out of your mouth, “Get… Sirius.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You felt sheets under you. Cold and scratchy. You don’t remember falling asleep last night. In fact, you don’t remember much of anything. You heard hushed murmuring around you, but the words were quiet enough for you to not pick up on.

You cracked your eyes open, light flooding in. You were still a bit groggy, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you noticed the high ceilings and the stained glass. This was certainly not your dorm, these sheets definitely did not belong on your bed. No. You were in the hospital wing.

You sat up straight, the movement making your head pound. You looked frantically around, noting the antidotes and potions on the side table, Madam Pomfrey must have been quite confused about your situation.

You looked down to see James at your bedside, hunched over the bed and resting his head on his crossed arms. He looks surprisingly peaceful given the way he was sleeping. You reached your hand lazily out to him, running your fingers through his hair.

This action roused him from his sleep, his eyes fluttered and brows furrowed as he woke. You smiled down at him.

“She’s awake!” he announced.

Not a moment later Sirius and Remus were rushing into the small curtained off room, taking you in and seeming to sigh a breath of relief.

“Y/N, love.” Sirius said, approaching the opposite side of the bed that James was taking up. He moved around fast and frantic, looking you over for any injuries.

Remus moved in closer as well, slotting himself in right next to James. He took your face in his hands, feeling for your temperature and checking to make sure you were alright.

You didn’t understand at first why they were fussing so much, but the memories started slowly filling your head. You came to the realization that you passed out in the dungeons after your potion mishap. How embarrassing.

“Love,” Remus said softly, bringing your attention out of your thoughts and onto him, “what happened?”

You groaned again as he helped you lie back down. “Well,” you began, “You know that potions assignment I’ve been working on for so long?”

The boys all nodded their heads, understanding. How could they not, it was practically all you talked about, what you spent all of your free time on, what you ate, slept, and breathed for the past month. Sirius even complained about it taking you away from them.

“I don't know what happened, I was doing everything right. I had all the ingredients measured properly and in the correct order. I just think that the cauldron was too hot or… i don’t know,” you rambled, “anyway, long story short… it exploded.”

The boys blinked at you for a moment. “Exploded?” James asked. You nodded your confirmation.

“But that doesn’t explain why my brother found you collapsing on the dungeon ground.” Sirius mentioned, still confused and worried.

You turned to him and took his hand into yours, squeezing gently.

“It was a sleeping draught, I guess the fumes of the entire thing just affected me.” you explained to him. You laughed to yourself, “at least I know it was a good potion now.”

Remus smiled but didn’t laugh. “We were really worried, love.” he said, shoulders relaxing knowing that you were alright.

The feeling of guilt rushed into you. It was probably really scary for them, especially since they had no idea what was wrong. Seeing a loved one in that kind of a state and in the hospital must have been stressful and worrying.

“I’m so sorry,” you started apologizing to them, “It was an accident but, I know that must have been really scary for all of you.”

James shook his head. “No love, you don’t need to apologize. We’re all just glad you’re alright.”

“Yes but, I know that can’t have been easy, especially not knowing what was happening. I hate that I caused you to worry like that.” you continued.

“Hey,” Sirius stopped you, “like you said, it was an accident, you don’t have to apologize for that. And besides, we are your boyfriends, we worry because it’s our job.”

You went to interject but Remus stopped you. “It’s true,” he said playfully, “James about had a panic attack last week when you went out to Hogsmeade without a jacket.”

You laughed and looked at James who nodded and mouthed ‘it’s true’.

“Luckily you made a smart decision and went towards the Slytherin common room so that Reggie was able to find you,” Sirius said. “I owe him big time.”

“Oh Regulus,” you sighed, “I should definitely apologize to him. It probably looked like I was dying and putting that on him…”

“He was actually pretty calm,” Sirius said, “I was impressed. It seemed like he knew exactly what to do. I’m proud of him, I would’ve been a total mess.”

You giggled. “Noted,” you said, “I’ll make sure not to need life saving in front of you then.”

“Glad to see you have your spirit back.” James laughed.

Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain closing off your bed area and walked in. “Oh good! You’re awake.” she chimed. “gave us all quite the fright, dear, luckily you were brought straight to me, I had just the antidote for you.”

“And what would have happened if she weren’t brought to you, exactly?” Remus said from beside you, asking out of curiosity.

“She probably would have been out for a couple days.”

“Days?” James asked, shocked.

“Well it’s a good thing I was there then wasn’t it?” Regulus said from the open curtain.

“Reggie!” you called out, glad to see your savior.

Sirius instantly made his way over and in the most exaggerated and over the top way, hugged his brother, making a big display out of it. “Oh my wonderful baby brother. Thank you for saving my love! How will I ever manage to repay your kindness?” he said dramatically, hanging off of Regulus.

“Ugh, get off!” Regulus said, shoving Sirius off of him. Sirius laughed and backed up. “I was just dropping by to see how you were doing.” He said to you.

“I’m doing better now, thanks to you.” you said. “Reggie, I am so sorry, that must have been sort of frightening and-”

“No need to apologize,” he interrupted, “I’m just glad I found you and you weren't spending the night on the cold dungeon floor.

“Well, thank you anyway.” you chuckled. “But if that’s the case, you could have just taken me to my dorm, I have all the antidotes there, you didn’t have to make such a dramatic show of your heroism, dummy.” you sarcastically joked to him.

“Oh is that so?” Regulus laughed, “Well in that case, I’ll just step over your body next time instead of saving your life.” You laughed along with him.

Madam Pomfrey cleared you to leave and the boys collected your things for you. You were excited, you knew that now the whole day would be spent with them pampering you to no end. That would mean unlimited cuddles and relaxation and much needed time to make up for with your boys. Exploded potion and Slughorn be damned, you were doing nothing with your boyfriends today.

just some cute poly!marauders content for Remus's birthday :)

592 notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 5 months ago

Text

It's a Love Story - Chapter 10

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Azriel is fine,” Gwyn repeated drily, her nose buried in a book.

Her friends got to hear all about Nesta’s worry.

“You don’t know that,” Nesta said with a sigh. “I just…gods, I want to throttle Rhysand,” she seethed. For doing this to Azriel.

To Az. Who had always been kind to her. Who had always been…sweet to her. Who was sweet. Even when his exterior didn’t betray that. Who was kind and thoughtful and gave the best gifts…Who had sat with her when she had waken up from nightmares and had been willing to lay down his life to make sure that her sister would be happy.

He was like a brother to Nesta. He was what she had always imagined an older brother to be like. And she knew that he had been utterly miserable, but hadn’t been able to fix what was wrong for him…and now she got to find out that it was all Rhysand’s fault.

Emerge just sighed. “Get in line,” her friend said drily. “Mor wants to do worse than that to him, I think.”

Nesta held back a snort. She believed it once she saw it and not before.

“He is fine. Quite happy even,” Gwyn repeated, a small grin painting her features.

“How do you know?” Nesta demanded, turning to her red-haired friend who just smiled at her.

“Because I saw him yesterday,” Gwyn said simply.

"You saw him?" Nesta asked, her eyes widening in surprise. "Where? When?" When had Gwyn.

Gwyn just sighed. “Why would a male and a female that love each other very much come to see a Priestess?”

Nesta's eyes widened as she realized what Gwyn was implying.

"You don't mean..." she trailed off, shock and disbelief etched on her face. "They're getting married?" she said weakly.

Gwyn just grinned at her, miming to lock up her mouth and throw away the key. "Let's just say that Azriel couldn't have been more in love if he had tried," she said cryptically, flipping the page of her book with a smirk.

“Who is she?” Nesta demanded. Who was Azriel’s mate? Who was the girl that the mother had picked to be good enough for Az?

“Sweet. Quiet,” Gwynn answered easily. “Thinks Azriel hung the moon and the stars.”

That was what he deserved, wasn’t it?

Azriel deserved happiness after everything he had been through, and if his mate could provide that for him, then that was all that mattered.

"Azriel deserves someone who loves him that much," she said, nodding in agreement. "Does he seem happy too?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"He's as happy as I've ever seen him," Gwyn answered, her expression softening. "He couldn't take his eyes off her the whole time. It was like the rest of the world didn't even exist."

Nesta smiled, feeling a sense of warmth thrumming through at the thought of Azriel being so happy. "I'm glad he's found someone who makes him feel that way," she said softly. "He deserves it."

Gwyn just smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I think they're good for each other," she said simply. "They just...fit together, you know?"

That’s what Nesta wished for for him.

And once she had that confirmation… well, it was much easier to calm Cassian.

Who had been near rabid with… Nesta wasn’t even sure with what. A bad conscience maybe. Anxiety, anger…a whole maelstrom of emotions.

"Talk to me," she said simply, as she sat down on the ground a few feet away from where he was stabbing one of the training dummy. She had half expected him to pin a painting of Rhysand to it, to stab his brother’s proxy. “Stop reducing every training double to kindle,” she said drily.

“Az said three days,” and he wasn’t there this morning,” Cassian snapped.

"Calm down," Nesta said firmly. "Azriel is a grown male, Cassian. He can take care of himself. Maybe something came up."

Like breakfast with his wife after they got married.

"But what if he's hurt or...or worse?" Cassian said, his voice cracking with emotion. "We don't even know where he is or what he's doing."

Nesta sighed, knowing that she couldn't brush off his concerns completely. "Look. He said he would be with his mate," Nesta said drily. "I am sure she'll take care of him. And Gwyn did see him yesterday and said he was fine."

"Why did Gwyn see him?" Cassian demanded immediately.

“Because I had a favour to ask," Azriel's voice came from behind them, drily.

Cassian turned around so quickly that she was quite sure that he got whiplash...and then pounced on Azriel in a bonecrushing hug.

"I am so sorry," she could hear her mate apologise. "I had a talk with Rhys. I imagine you'll get a apology from him as well. It's not enough, it's nowhere near enough, but...maybe it could be a start," Cassian said softly. "I am sorry that you didn't feel like you could come to me when you found your mate."

Even when Azriel had a temper...if it was about his family he was more forgiving than they had any right to, Nesta reflected drily, as she watched him return the hug from Cassian.

"It's not your fault," he waved him off, his voice dry. Cassian disagreed with that assessment, Nesta knew. Cassian thought that he should have said something earlier, done more...

She had never seen him as angry with Rhysand as he had been over the last few days. Actually, Nesta hadn’t thought that she would ever see the day that Cassian broke his High Lord's nose on purpose.

Cassian pulled back slightly from the hug, his expression still earnest. "I mean it, Az," he said. "I should have been there for you. I should have had your back."

"He did break Rhys'nose on your behalf," Nesta said drily.

Azriel's lips twitched into a faint smile. Thank you," he said, amusement in his voice. "That...means more than you know."

Cassian just shrugged, still feeling guilty for not having been there for Azriel when he needed him. "I should have been a better brother to you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I let you down."

Azriel said nothing, but squeezed Cassian’s shoulder.

Nesta couldn’t help but look for a ring on his hand. A simple gold band glinted there on his finger, and she was unable not to smile at it.

“Congratulartions,” she said quietly, nodding to the ring and Azriel looked at her and then the ring…and then he chuckled as she stood up and hugged him too.

“Thank you,” he thanked her graciously.

“You got married?!” Cassian said, sounding shocked, but the warmth in his voice was apparent. “Congrats!”.

"So, tell us all about her," Nesta said seriously.

"Why do you want to know?" Azriel asked, staring at her.

"Because she is your mate. She is your wife. She is important to you," Nesta said simply. "She is important to you, so she is important to us. What's her name?"

"Her name is Sky," he answered softly.

Sky.

Her name was Sky.

Named after what Azriel hadn’t been allowed to feel for over a decade. Sky. Named after what every Illyrian held dearest.

"Sky is...the sweetest person I have ever met. With the bluest eyes. She loves books and her cat," Azriel explained, a soft smile on his face.

Nesta and Cassian exchanged a small smile at the way Azriel's face lit up when he talked about Sky. "She sounds amazing," Nesta said sincerely. "We can’t wait to meet her. Whenever you are ready."

"Do you...Do you want to come to dinner tonight?" Azriel offered.

Nesta hadn't expected that. Had expected Azriel to hold a grudge to keep her away from all of them...but he was giving them a chance.

"Are you sure?" Nesta asked carefully. "We would love to come, but only if you're comfortable with it."

Azriel paused for a moment, "I'm sure," he said simply. "Sky would like it, and I...I would like it too."

Nesta smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest at Azriel's words. "We'll be there," she said warmly, Cassian nodding in agreement.

"Good," Azriel said simply. "I'll tell Sky."

"Thank you, Az," Cassian said softly, his expression earnest. "For giving us a chance."

This didn't stop Nesta's mate from telling her about his more and more ridiculous theories about Azriel's mate during their flight into Velaris and the mountains surrounding it.

Nesta couldn't help but roll his eyes as Cassian suggested her being a mythical being like Amren. "I swear, Cassian, you have the wildest imagination," she said, shaking her head. "Can you focus on flying for one minute without dreaming up these ridiculous scenarios?"

Cassian just shrugged, grinning unrepentantly. "Hey, it's fun to speculate," he said with a playful wink. "Besides, you never know...maybe Az's mate is a mermaid princess or something equally as exciting."

Nesta couldn't help but snort with laughter, even as Cassian landed in front of a charming cabin at a mountain lake. As soon as they landed, Nesta took a moment to take in their surroundings. The cabin was indeed charming, hidden away in a picturesque mountain setting near a serene lake. The peaceful surroundings seemed to perfectly mirror Azriel's quiet and introspective nature. Nesta could understand why he had chosen this spot as his home.

As they made their way towards the front door, Nesta couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves. This was…this was important.

This was the female that Azriel had married, his mate…she was important to him.

Before they had a chance to knock, Azriel opened the door, a slight smile on his face. "Come in," he said warmly.

Nesta's gaze immediately fell to the female at his size. Shorter than average, a body that consisted out of voluptuous curves, with chocolate brown waves falling to her waist. Her hands were clenched together and she was obviously nervous as she stared at Nesta and Cassian with ill-hidden apprehension.

"This...is Sky," Nesta heard Azriel say. Nesta couldn't tear her eyes away. Sky was exactly what she had expected and absolutely nothing like it at the same time.

Nesta's first impression of Sky was that she was undeniably pretty, in a quiet and understated way. But as she looked at the nervous expression on Sky's face, Nesta couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

She could only imagine how daunting it must feel for Sky to be meeting Azriel's family for the first time. She gave Sky a warm smile, which she hoped would put the girl at ease. "It's nice to finally meet you, Sky," she said gently. "Az has told us a lot about you."

Sky managed a trembling smile, but the nerves were clear on her face. "It...It's n...nice t...to me...meet y...you t...too," she stuttered, grimacing at her own voice. Azriel's hand on her waist tightened and he fixed both Nesta and Cassian with a look that told them there would be hell to pay if they said a single thing about her stutter.

Nesta just gave him a reassuring smile, as she got the message loud and clear. She wasn't going to make Sky feel even more uncomfortable and insecure than she already seemed to be. Not when it was clear that Azriel cared about her so much.

Cassian didn't even hesitate to pull first Azriel into a hug and then Sky right alongside with him, her small frame utterly dwarfed by Cassian.

“So you are my brother’s mate,” Cassian told her seriously. "We are so happy that we finally get to meet the girl that makes our brother so happy.”

Sky blushed at Cassian's warm words, but some of the tension seemed to leave her shoulders. "Th...Thank you...," she murmured, her tone a barely audible one. She stepped back into Azriel's embrace and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, his wings coming around to encircle her in a protective embrace.

Even his shadows seemed to love her. The shadows that normally kept away from every other person, only clinging to Azriel…seemed to dote on her, curls themselves through her hair, and along the hem of her dress…

"Shall we go inside?" Azriel asked, gesturing towards the open door behind him. Nesta and Cassian nodded, following the pair into the cozy cabin. The interior of the cabin was just as warm and inviting as the outside, with rustic wooden floors and a large stone fireplace that crackled cheerfully. There were shelves filled with books on every wall and a few comfortable armchairs nestled around a low table.

So many books. Nesta was quite sure that it probably could be considered a private library.

But before she could really take it in, there was a rough meowing.

Nesta glanced down in surprise to see a fat, fluffy brown cat sauntering towards them, meowing loudly. The cat rubbed against Sky's ankles before trying to leap on the arm of the couch...and failing horrible. "Is that your cat?" Nesta asked, an amused smile on his face.

"Y…Yes, Th...That's H...Hector," Sky answered, picking up the cat that now pretended that falling off the couch had been totally his plan all along and instead curled himself happily in Sky's arms. His yellow eyes stared in two different directions and his fur was patchy...but he was somehow quite charming.

Nesta liked him. He had character. And his rough purring was adorable.

"He's adorable," Nesta said honestly, holding out her hand towards him. As Hector sniffed at her, she reached out to gently scratch behind his ears. The cat leaned into her touch contentedly, his purrs growing even louder.

"Sky dotes on him," Azriel said with a hint of pride in his voice. "He was a stray and she took him in. She's been taking care of him ever since."

Nesta looked at Sky, who was smiling at her cat. "That's so sweet," Nesta said. "He's a big boy, isn't he?" she said with some amusement. When Sky held him, Hector seemed to be nearly half her size.

"I...It's a...all the tuna he eats," Sky answered drily.

Nesta chuckled, "Well, he's certainly in good hands with you." She watched as Hector purred contentedly in Sky's arms, clearly very attached to her.

Cassian, meanwhile, was eyeing the cat with a playful grin. "Careful, Az, Hector might try to steal your girl with all his charm," he teased.

Azriel just cocked an eyebrow, "Oh he already did," he drawled, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Nesta couldn't help but laugh at their banter. It felt good to see Azriel being relaxed enough to joke around, even if it was at his own expense.

Even Sky was smiling as Hector let out a loud meow, clearly demanding attention. "Someone's jealous," she said softly, scratching him behind his ears. Hector purred contentedly and burrowed deeper into her arms, clearly happy to be the center of attention.

"Y...You want to hold him?" she offered the cat to Nesta. "I need to check on dinner."

Nesta gamely lifted Hector from Sky's arms, cradling him like a baby. "I'll keep him entertained while you do," she said with a smile. Hector mewled contentedly, his head tilted as he looked at Nesta with one eye.

As Azriel and Cassian made themselves comfortable on the couch, “Are you sure that’s a cat?” Cassian hissed towards Azriel. “And not a stunted mountain lion or something?”

“It’s all the tuna he eats. He had a hard life," Azriel said defensively.

Nesta looked up from where she was still playing with Hector. "I can see that," she said with a nod, gesturing towards Hector's missing eye and patched up fur. "I can tell he was loved from the moment Sky took him in though."

Nesta carried him over to the bookcases, eyes greedily reading the names and words on the spines.

It was a whole galore of romance books in these bookcases, a lot that Nesta had never even heard about, though there were some of her favourites between them...another bookcase held books from every which topic that involved sword fighting and horse riding and blacksmithing and everything in between...lots of cookbooks too...and then there was one bookcase that seemed to be solely filled with every Sellyn Drake novel in existence. Even the ones that were so rare that notneven the house had yet managed to get them for Nesta.

Nesta couldn't help but smirk as she ran her fingers over the spines of the 'Sellyn Drake' books. "Seems like Sky is just as big of a fan as I am," she said with a chuckle.

She turned to see Sky in the open kitchen, busy with a large pan. "You have all of her books," Nesta said admiringly. "I can't believe you have some of the rare ones, I have been trying to get those forever!"

Sky looked up from her cooking, surprised that Nesta seemed impressed by her collection. "Y...Yeah, I...I do like them..." Sky replied, her voice soft and hesitant. She turned back to the stove, clearly feeling self-conscious as she stirred the pot.

Nesta sensed her discomfort and decided to lighten the mood. "You know, I think I should officially crown you as the ultimate Sellyn Drake fan," she said with a playful grin. "No one has a collection like this one. Maybe we can talk about our favorite scenes sometime. I'm dying to discuss the latest novel...Did you read it already? Azriel got it for my birthday," Nesta told her brightly. "It's signed. I have no idea how he even managed that."

"I gave it to him," Sky said, turning towards her.

Sky had gotten it for Az?!

"Where did you get it from? It wasn't even out yet?!" Nesta asked curiously. "Tell me your secrets."

Azriel smirked, "I have my ways," he said with a wink. "But I can't reveal all my secrets. The fun is in keeping a few things a mystery."

Nesta just rolled her eyes, "Always the cryptic one, Az." She then turned back to Sky, "But seriously, where did you get the signed copy from? I'd sell my soul to get my hands on one of those."

"The...The author owed me a favor," Sky said, her voice hesitant.

Nesta's eyes widened, "You mean you know Sellyn Drake in person??!!"

"I...I mean...I...she is...me" Sky stammered, her cheeks turning red as she fumbled with her words.

What?

Azriel chuckled warmly, walking over to Sky and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling Sky close. "What Sky is trying to say, Nesta, is that she is Sellyn Drake," he finished for her.

Nesta just stared for a moment, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Are you serious?" she asked, still reeling from the revelation.

Sky just gave her a small nod, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Sellyn Drake is… a…actually a p…pen n…name," she said softly. "I couldn't use my real name and still keep my a…anonymity...So Skylar Alden became Sellyn Drake.”

Nesta was still trying to process the news. "So you're telling me that the author of my favorite novels of all time, is standing in front of me, cooking dinner?"

Sky shrugged, "Y...Yes?" There was a hint of uncertainty in her tone, as if she was unsure of what reaction she was going to get from Nesta.

Nesta's face split into a wide grin, "This is the best day ever" she exclaimed. She couldn't believe that she was meeting her favorite author, and it was even better knowing that the author was someone so sweet and unassuming as Sky.

Cassian started laughing, the sound deep and amused. "You have a few tricks up your sleeve, Sky" he chortled amusedly.

Azriel chuckled, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile. "Sky is full of surprises, even to me," he teased.

Sky just swatted at his arm, a soft blush coloring her cheeks

***

Somehow actually admitting that she was Sellyn Drake...that was easy. So easy.

She used to be so afraid to tell people about it. But with Azriel at her side, she felt safer. His love and support made her feel more confident and comfortable in her own skin. She could be herself with him without any judgement.

And why shouldn’t she be proud of her success? She wrote these books! They were her babies!

"Alright, but I need to know what happens next!" Nesta told her, her grey eyes wide and desperate. "You left the book at such a cliffhanger!"

Sky laughed softly, feeling a little less self-conscious now that the cat was out of the bag. She turned back to the stove, stirring the pot once more.

"Maybe I c…can give you a s…spoiler or two," she offered, grinning. "But just this one time. Can't give e…everything away too easily now, can I?"

Nesta leaned in, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Please, please tell me," she begged. "I need to know what happens next!"

"Alright," Sky agreed, amused by Nesta's enthusiasm. "But you have to p…promise not to b…breathe a word of this to my publisher. She would kill me if they knew I was spilling the beans before the book is even published."

Nesta nodded eagerly, making a zipping motion across her lips. "Your secret is safe with me."

"And we lost them," Cassian said drily.

Azriel laughed, "Can't compete with the author herself, Cass. Best to just sit back and enjoy the ride."

Nesta was lovely and Cassian was as loud and boisterous as Azriel had described him to be...and quite frankly, Sky loved Azriel's family. At least the two people that she had met.

"Was tonight...alright?" Azriel asked her softly as he pulled her into his arms that evening.

Sky smiled gently, leaning back into his embrace. She felt relieved that the night had gone well, and that Azriel's family had accepted her with open arms.

"It was...better than alright," she replied softly, feeling a warmth in her heart. She caught his hand in hers, pulling it to her lips, so she could press a kiss to the simple gold band that encircled his ring finger.

Their wedding had been a spur of the moment decision a day ago...but Sky wouldn't have wanted it any other day. It was everything she had ever wanted. Just the two of them.

No need for a big production.

Azriel's eyes softened, and he tightened his arms around her. "I'm glad," he murmured, the emotion in his voice palpable. He kissed the top of her head, holding her close. Neither of them said anything for a while, just holding each other in a comforting silence.

"We have the healer appointment tomorrow," Sky said softly.

Something Azriel had insisted on after their talk about having children. He was worried that the beautiful wings that sprouted from his back would mean a difficult pregnancy for her, an impossible birth…

Azriel just nodded, his face set in a grim expression. "We do," he replied, his voice tight. He was still grappling with his fears about the situation. "But no matter what, we'll face it together," he promised her fiercely.

Madja, that was the healer's name, put these fears to rest however.

"Quite frankly, it's unlikely that the child will be born with wings anyway," she told them after she had listened to Azriel's fears. "It will only be half Illyrian, after all"

"Nyx?" Azriel questioned pointedly. He had mentioned his nephew to her in this context, about him being born with wings which had nearly killed his High Fae mother throughout the birth.

"There were....circumstances around his conception, you know that," Madja said drily. "Skylar is High Fae with a dash of River Nymph. Which quite frankly, could be a point in your favour anyway."

"How so?" Sky asked curiously.

"Your bones are...bendy," Madja told her drily. "Even if the child would inherit Azriel's wings...and would have them at birth...which is unlikely in itself, your pelvis would be able to...expand enough to have the baby pass through the birth canal. However, it is more likely that any child the two of you had would be similar to the other half-illyrian you know," she told Azriel pointedly. "Being able to summon the wings at will, just like Rhysand."

Just like the High Lord?

"Really?" Sky asked, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. Azriel also appeared visibly more relaxed. "So there's a chance that our child will be born without wings?"

Madja nodded in confirmation, giving them a slight smile. "Yes, there is," she said reassuringly. "But even if that isn't the case, your Nymph ancestry would make the birth easier for you."

Azriel's hand found Sky's, squeezing it gently. She could feel his relief mirroring her own. It was a weight lifted off their shoulders to know that their baby's birth might not be as difficult as they had feared.

It was calming. Like all the puzzle pieces were slowly putting themselves together.

"Thank you, Madja," Sky said warmly. "For putting our minds at ease."

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #it’s a love story

498 notes · View notes

stilljuststardust · 1 year ago

Text

It's ok to feel like shit.

You don't need toxic positivity to manifest or to shift

The language in this mostly addresses manifestation but it is applicable to both LOA and shifting.

I have been getting a lot of questions that generally boil down to "it really hurts right now, what do I do"

I think in some ways a lot of people have internalized this belief that they have to feel good and happy and motivated 100% of the time if they want it to work.

Couldn't be more wrong.

So many people respond to genuine questions with "well just don't 🤪". I know that's not how they mean it and I don't blame them one bit but as someone who has been mentally ill I know how it makes you think and I know that's how most people feel when they hear it.

It's ok to feel like shit. No you don't need to feel happy to manifest. You don't have to feel like you just won the lottery every five seconds of your day to manifest winning it.

You are not cursed to never manifest just because you have strong emotional reactions to things.

It's ok to hurt. Take a deep breath and remind yourself that while your feelings are absolutely valid and deserve the space to be felt they are not the authority on your reality.

Our brains naturally want to make sense of what we're feeling but it often leads us to thinking the way we're feeling is evidence of what will happen next.

"I feel awful and I don't like how often I'm feeling it" often leads us into thinking "nothing is ever going to work for me", but it's important to ground ourselves and realize that feeling like shit is not divine undeniable proof that it isn't going to work.

Feeling like shit just means you feel like shit, nothing more.

Sometimes we feel awful so we self sabotage and then say "see I was right", when really we're just a self fulfilling prophecy.

You don't want to be right, you want the comfort of having your emotions validated and seen.

Holding space for yourself to feel things and feel them deeply is important to our spiritual physical and mental health. However, saying that assigning meaning to it isn't good for you.

Keep fucking going. It's ok to affirm even though you feel like shit. Feeling like shit is not "evidence" that it's "not going to work".

Self discipline is knowing to regulate yourself and validate your emotions without affirming the opposite of what you want.

Self discipline is not beating yourself up and restricting yourself heavily. It is checking yourself when needed.

1K notes · View notes

karlachismylife · 7 months ago

Text

Wrote the intro the day I started this work and decided to leave it since it reflects the shitstorm in my head quite well, eh.

Okay Idk what it is with me today (I actually do know, I'm having a bad fucking night as a consequence of my own actions but I prefer not to think about it), but I just thought about task force 141 and reader that has such a bad withdrawal after their orgasm that they actually cry and not in a fun way (cue my lack of understanding how crying in bed can ever be fun, but i'm not here to kinkshame)

CW: NSFW (so minors and ageless blogs DNI, I'll block you), but there's barely any sex, hurt/comfort, body image issues, low self-esteem, chubby/fat!reader, written with afab!reader in mind (but most parts can be read as gn), potential mental health issues (?), thoughts of selfloathing and selfharm, smoking mentioned once at the end. Very self-indulgent and I'm definitely unwell, so yeah. It's also more focused on reader's inner shitstorm than the guys in many places so idk if this even really is enjoyable...

Starts as a single piece, then splits into individual blurbs/drabbles/oneshots + some polyamory cuz I'm spoiling myself today having done nothing to deserve it, lol.

They vary in size and tone since I've been writing them through several ups and downs in my own mental state, so please don't take this as a sign of which characher/combo is my favourite. I'm greedy, I like everything.

This is unfair.

Like, you just had wonderful sex, probably came more than once in a short period of time, ears stuffed with cotton, limbs weak, head spinning... and it keeps spinning, sweet tingling on the skin turning into nasty rushes of cold, muscles too tense, but it's not a cramp.

You feel like shit, every possible hormonal and neuromediator crash downing on you, a hollow, depressing weight in your chest instead of a sweet afterglow. Sweat and cum feel disgusting on you skin, your skin feels disgusting, strangling, your whole body seems revolting, too heavy, too sluggish. A sticky, suffocating heatwave on your nape, but your chest is cold and covered in goosebumps, a feverish feeling clogging every pore. Nausea wrenches into your stomach and stops just before you can relievingly barf and get rid of this parasite inside.

You simply want to dig your nails into your own shoulders instead of his and rip the skin and meat off, free yourself from this burden (you're the burden). Each second as he stays blissfully unaware, holding you tightly with his big hands and panting into the crook of your neck, drags on like a hundred hours of pure torture - the torture of being yourself.

Throwing up feels like an appropriate reaction to how unappealing and ugly you feel.

You're spiraling. You couldn't fucking keep your own messed up emotional outburst - completely unreasonable and unprovoked, by the way - to yourself, and now it's going to be noticed. You'll ruin someone else's fun. Make it all about yourself when you've already been nothing but doted on, cared and provided for. Fucked so good that your body is still clenching around that magnificent cock deep inside you.

And you're fucking crying, like an ungrateful, egotistical brat. Never having enough, unable to provide something as simple as a hole to make someone else happy without fucking it up.

Ghost notices immediately. There's nothing that can escape this man, and definitely not his love's distress. He's not reacting immediately for a sole reason: he's frozen in fear, horrified that he made you cry. How - he's not sure, he always takes great care to stay within limits, never allows himself to push you further than you both agree on. But what if he slipped up? What if he got carried away? Did he cause pain? Did he say something hurtful in the heat of the moment?

"Fuck. Hey, hey, lovie... look at me... wha's wrong? Did I... did I hurt ya?" Good thing you're hiding your face and your red eyes so desperately that you can't see how distressed and downright terrified Simon looks, lost at the sight of your tears. When you shake your head and attempt to push him away to hide your pathetic sobbing, he somewhat calms down and brings his big calloused hands to cradle your face, gently prying your own palms away and holding your puffy cheeks tenderly. His thumbs brush your tears away as he holds you, holds you through the growing rage fit of touch aversion, through the shudders and actual wailing. At some point he moves his palm to cover your eyes, a dry, dark blinder to keep the world around you shut out, help you concentrate on his voice.

He's not talking, just humming, a familiar, deep, grumbling noise that soothes all the flashes of anger, hate and disgust in your brain. You're tired now, like you're always are after such an intense outburst, and as you go limp, he finally pulls away, only to pick you up - barely a strain, a direct spit in the face of your own insecurity - and bring you to the bathroom. A warm shower evens your distorted body temperature out, his hands running over your body and cleaning all the stickiness away bring back peace with your own skin. After a quick rinse Simon holds you, your head cradled against his chest, until you make a weak attempt to help him wash too - he lets you trace his body, that perfection you adore with all its old wounds, sores and scars, for a bit, and then finishes himelf.

Gives you fresh cotton underwear and his hige T-shirt, still holding you around your shoulders and keeping the comfortable pressure even while he changes the bedsheets, kissing your temple as you find it in yourself to help.

It's only after you settle on top of him, nice, clean comforter protecting your back against the world, head on his chest right next to his heart beating in a steady rythm, he finally breaks silence.

"Need anything else, lovie?" Just like that. No prying, no occusations, nothing that would put you on the spot. You can ask him to bring you the moon soaked in unicorn's milk, and he'll just nod, kiss your hand and start dressing up, already calling Johnny to ask where the fuck did Scots hide their last horned horse and if he happens to know where they enlist astronauts.

"Just you."

His grip on the small of your back tightens and you feel his uneven, scarred lips graze the top of your head.

"Ya've got me. Always."

Soap is running hot like a furnace, still shivering and panting after what he considers the best sex he has ever had (every time with you is). He lifts his face, buried into the crease of your neck previously, and starts peppering you with slightly sloppy, grateful kisses - your neck, your jaw, your lips, your...

When he tastes your tears and opens his unbelievably blue eyes to see your expression contorted in disgust, he panics. Pulls away immediately, hands both itching to grab you and shake a reason for that look on your face out of you and too scared to touch you in case this hatred is directed at him.

"Whit's wrong, leannan? Are ye a'right? Ye didnae lik' it? Shite, lass, Ah'm so sorry, Ah didnae mean tae-" He stops yapping only when he notices the way your lips tremble as you try to plead with him, sobbing that it's not his fault.

"'M sorry, I ruined it... I'm so sorry, sushine, I just... fuck I wish I wasn't so bloody sick in the head and ugly..." Speaking out loud only worsens your anger, directed solely at yourself, and you try to wipe your eyes furiously. As the tears keep rolling, your frustration only grows - maybe if you yanked your own hair really good or slapped the disgusting pudgy cheek you've despised ever since chidhood as everyone kept pointing out how big they were...

"Ye didnae just call the love of mah fucking life ugly." Johnny's voice is a mix of a harsh order to cut your bullshit and pure disbelief. His huge paws wrap themselves around your wrists, stopping you both from harming yourself and covering your face. You're forced to look at him, and as you do, you see his handsome face flushed with a passionate anger at the intrusive thoughts in your head, heavy frown in his thick eyebrows and the sea in his eyes dark and deep enough to drown a whole fleet. You'd be scared if it wasn't obvious how hurt he is underneath it all - like a kid whose favourite plushie just got mocked by his classmates.

"It's just a toy," adults would say, and they would be bloody wrong.

"Tis not a toy, tis mah friend."

You're his friend. His love. His heart, his soul, his everything - he whispers that frantically, kissing you over and over, hot palms running over your body, wiping the cold, the stickiness, the goosebumps away. You don't have time to think, to spiral again, you're drowning in that exact sea that's spilling from his eyes, staring at you with pure devotion - a sea of affection, admiration, love, love, love.

Johnny nuzzles up to you like an animal seeking comfort, hides into your chest, right after he kisses your sweaty double chin, breathes in deeply, lets go of your soft shoulders only to grab two handfuls of your tummy, kneading it, warming up the stale blood, squeezing your big thighs between his and getting lost in the frenzy - he honestly doesn't even remember already that he was comforting you, he's fully in the worshipping mode, leaving you no chance to dip even a single toe into the self-conscious thoughts again.

You'll just have to stay there, every single tear lapped up from your face, and accept every greedy touch and word of a man utterly in love with you. Even the messed up parts.

Gaz keeps his cool despite how distraught even the thought of your sadness makes him. First of all he moves aside to give you space, makes sure you're not hurt, asking in his usual kind - unbelievably kind, so much that you burst into tears again, feeling undeserving of such unapologetically soft treatement, tone.

"Shh, shush, gorgeous, you're not hurt, are you? It's okay, c'mere, jus-st like tha', very good, love," praises keep spilling from his tender lips as he carefully helps you sit up, simply dragging you away from the damp from sweat and everything else spot on the sheets. He ends up balancing half his bare ass off the edge of the bed, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest as he feels you already coming back from that hopeless place as soon as your body gets stuck between clean, dry and a bit cool sheet and Kyle's firm lean body of a litearal god - or a prince, at least.

His deft fingers are already at work, massaging your scalp, chasing the tension away, but the second he feels you grow uncomfortable with the repetitive movement, he stops and retreats to simply holding you in a steady, reliant embrace. You know he's good with his words, that's how he got you, swept off your feet completely and made you swoon with sweet compliments, hilarious snark and smart talk.

You just don't expect him to do it all over again in the face of your burdened mind crumbling in the paradise.

"Talk to me, angel. Let me inside that pretty head, hm?"

It takes this sweettalker just a couple of words to coax whatever that ugly, slimy knot in your throat is, out. You sob, retelling Kyle every single thought that has been stuck in that coagulated mess in your head, spill the bile that has been burning your retching throat, out in the open, for him to see the disgusting ugliness of your insides - matching your outside.

Somehow throughout your choking trade his soft, careful hand never leaves your back, rubbing circles of different radius and intensity into your skin to keep the aggression at monotonous touch at bay.

"Must've been some terrible person to overbear your spirit and plant all those lies in your mind, angel." You don't catch the meaning of his words at first, glancing at him confused and whoozy after you exploded with self-deprication. Those dark, calm eyes look at you no different than before: quiet, calm reverence and determination. A thread of spider's silk, thin as a hair, but stronger than steel, his love does not waver. Were you in the right state to actually pay attention, you would've seen it only grow.

"Well, beautiful, this isn't how I planned to start writing poetry, but since you insisted... maybe I can think of a diss track about you."

"A diss track?.." Poor you, so upset that you can't catch onto the mischievous glint in his eyes and that silly smooth sarcasm slipping into his words. You're actually half a step away from believing he would diss you, destroying that already non-existent self-esteem once and for all.

"Yup. Gotta diss-tract you from all that bullshit in your head for good. Unless you'd rather me fuck it out of you instead?"

You cannot not smile at that, even if it's a weak, timid smile. Kyle's face still lights up as if he sees an actual angel, bringing the good grace or whatever.

"There ya go. First step of the mission? Success. Permission to continue? I repeat, permission to continue?"

"You spend too much time with Simon. Permission granted..."

Price undrstands what's going on before he even hears your first sob, the tension in your body and the change in your breath telling him all he needs to know. There's enough experience in this man for the both of you, he has learnt to read people and immediately accomodate them in a way that serves a common goal so long ago that it's a secong nature already.

Your comfort is that common goal.

With a grunt, he rolls you over, planting you firmly on top of his warm, burly body. Untucking your head from his hairy chest, he holds your face and does not let you concentrate on anything but his stern, focued gaze under those bushy eyebrows - but there's still that undeniable tenderness in his eyes that's always there whenever John looks at you.

His voice sounds usual too: a calm, commanding, but not harsh tone, not a loud bark any of his subordinates would hear, yet still an order. "Look at me, darling. Tha's right, look at me, look at your John. You shut whatever's going through that troubled mind of yours out and let me take care of the rest, a'right? Can you do that for me, darling? I know you can. I'll do all the thinking for ya, eh?"

Giving control over to him feels natural at any other moment, but right now you're too deep in the trenches of the war with your own mind, hissing at you with pure disgust for being so selfish. Really, now? Had to use this sweet, caring man for your own needs, and now you're dumping all your perverted, fucked up baggage on him too?

"Nuh-huh, ya're still thinking. Told ya to cut if off. You know that's not you thinking right now, dontcha? You're a smart one, love, ya know shit like this happens. And when shit happens, who are you going to to deal with it, huh?" His deep voice rumbles in his chest, seeps into your clogged ears, fills your skull with the unyielding determination and leaves no room for your own dark thoughts.

When you hesitate to answer, John slides his rough palms over your back, tracing your soft rolls and landing onto the pudge of your hips, squeezing lightly to remind you who's in charge and what your task is. "Who is there for ya to deal with shit that happens, hm, darling? Need ya to tell me."

You want to hide, escape his demand for an answer, but he keeps you firmly in his embrace, a gaze of steel unmoving from you. It almost makes you tear up again, almost feels mean of him to put you on the spot, when all you want to do is curl up in a dark corner and stay there for all eternity. But the love you have for this man overpowers even the seething hatred you bear for yourself, so you give up and murmur meekly: "You..."

"Tha's right, darling, it's your John. I'm here to deal with everything that bothers ya. Everything, ya hear? Tha's me job. Your job is to stay wit' me 'n' not overthink, eh? Especially not when it's just hormons making ya feel bad." You have nothing else left to do, other than sniffle into his chest and melt under a warm kiss he plants on your crown. "How about a cuppa, eh, darling? And something just as sweet as ya for a bite. Ya'll feel better in no time, I promise."

Ghost and Soap cancel each other's panicking out. As soon as both you and Simon slip out of the sweet afterglow, falling backwards each into your own pit of self-doubt and spiraling, Johnny starts babbling, terrified at the thought of both his beloved people feeling worse after being with him. His slurred, panting words and frantic kisses help Simon shake of his own horror - in return, he squeezes Johnny's shoulder to slow the worried mutt down and redirect his energy into helping you. Soap tenses up under the firm touch of his Lieutenant, then relaxes again, leaning into him for a moment to collect himself - they charge from each other, mere seconds of feeding off each other's energies in the middle of a time-limited mission with the highest stakes: your well-being.

They exchange glances, no words needed after the way their work together almost makes them mindreaders to each other, and turn back to you as you lay there, face painfully contorted in an attempt to keep the black foamy bile you feel rising in your throat from spilling. Slow, sticky, angry tears run down your flabby cheeks, and with each millimetre they go, your scalding wish to gouge your eyes out with your bare hands grows, just to punish yourself for being ungrateful after two perfect men spent so much of their time making you feel good.

"Dinnae cry, bonnie. Ye're a'right, ye're 'ere, wit' us. Right, LT? We're nae gonnae let ye marinate in whitevur got ye so upset." The pressure from inside your body that threatened to burst you open into a messy explosion of bile and rot, gets evened out from outside by Johnny's tight hug. He squeezes you up to the painful point, cradling against his broad chest, holding the fort while Simon leaves the bed, but not without kissing both your palms and holding them against his lips until he feels the cold leave your fingertips.

"Oi, Johnny. Help lovie get in 'ere," he calls out several minutes later out of the bathroom. Soap, who has been holding you and allowing you to sob against his heart this whole time, stroking your sweaty hair and murmuring every word of love he knows, scoops you up immediately. He pads over with you in his arms to where a warm bath is already filled thanks to Simon, and when you react to the temperature with another wave of tears, they both reach out to the tap simultaneously.

"Is tha' a'right, bonnie?" You make a strangled noise as Johnny finally sets you down into much cooler now water. It soothes you, makes you feel instantly cleaner, smaller, lighter. Breathing gets easier, that swollen blob of anger and disgust shrinking down in your chest and allowing you to inhale bathroom's damp air normally. You open your mouth to apologize and get cut off before even a single syllable leaves your mouth.

"Don't," Simon's voice sounds gruff, but even his murky reflection in the rippling water looks genuinely soft towards you. They're both perched on the cold bath edge, naked and seemingly not caring about that at all. "Jus' let us take care of you, yeah, love? Tha's what we're here for. Tha's what we want to do."

"Well, actually, there's one more thing," Johnny interjects, causing you to finally lift your sullenly lowered head and look at him, Simon's big palm using this moment of distraction to press onto your back in silent support. "Can Ah make ye a foam beard? Please, bonnie? Ye jus' 'ave the prettiest sweetest cheeks fur tha'."

Soap and Gaz feel like their world is sinking into a whirlwind of stormy clouds, the kind that sucks all light out of sky in mere seconds and can't be cut through even by blinding flashes of lightnings. There is no sun in their skies if you're not smiling, and the sound of your muffled sniffles hits their eardrums harder than thunder or explosions. The frowns distorting their faces only make you more self-aware of the fact that you ruined things between you - the initial hysteria starts rapidly flowing into complete shutdown, threatening to turn you into an emotionless shell for unknown period of time, when several warm, big hands intervene and cut the depressing trajectory down at its root.

"Damn, we did a shit job fucking all your thoughts out, didn't we, angel?" Kyle's joke sounds soft, teasing, but empathetic, ready to be met with sobs or silence instead of the usual laughter that flashes your teeth at him and makes his own smile grow brighter.

"Aye, we did. If anythin', Ah think we put more thoughts intae 'ere instead," Johnny scratches his head dramatically, and then you feel his big, hot palm on you sweaty forehead, as if he's trying to get a feel of the thoughts inside your skull. It doesn't linger there for long, though, rough fidgety fingers digging into your hair and tugging at the roots. This makes the hot-and-cold collar around your nape unclench, uncouth and chaotic massage confidently pulling every ounce of anger out of your brain. From time to time his calloused palm slips lower, squeezing your scruff, wiping the cool sweat away and taking control over what seems to have escaped your own.

"How does it feel to be the first person to get knocked up mentally, love? Having any cravings yet? Feeling your brainworms kick yet?" Dry cotton comforter suddenly covers your exposed to be looked at with disdain body, and before you can choke out a protest and something about you being sweaty and sticky and disgusting, Kyle grips your shoulders firmly, rubbing up and down as he slowly helps you sit up a bit.

"Ye eejit, how dae ye think thay can kick? They're brainworms, thay dinnae hae any legs!" The sheer passion in Johnny's heated counterarguement does the impossible - makes the corners of your deeply upset mouth twitch against all the weight the sadness put on them. Your knights in shining (from all the sweat your lovemaking covered them with) armor of their own warm skin seem to not notice the slightest twitch of your lips - there's no excessive attention drawn to you, none of them puts you on the spot. Their touch isn't going anywhere, but it almost seems mindless, simply their need to have something soft and pleasant to squeeze in their restless hands. "'N' wasnae Mary th' first lassie tae get up th' duff through th' heid?"

"That wasn't mentally, that was spiritually, read your books, Soap," scoffs Kyle, as if it was the most obvious thing, and ducks just in time to avoid a pillow thrown at him with sniper's precision.

"Oi, ye sayin' Ah cannae read now?!" Whatever snarky retort Kyle was ready to shoot, gets wiped out as Johnny tackles him, barely avoiding pushing all three of you off the bed. Their scuffle consists of chokeholds and sneaky kisses, legs getting caught in the sheets and somehow tangling you into the mess too.

Until you laugh, finding yourself squished into Johnny's hairy chest with Kyle in a gently headlock somewhere under your arm.

"Hey, hey, careful, mate, our lovie's expecting, we can't just throw 'em around!" However obvious that deflection is, Johnny reacts as if you were actually with child and grabs your face, boring his eyes into yours, slowly widening his two blue lochs in pretend horror.

"Och naw! Ah think we lost 'em, Ah cannae see nothin' there now!" Flushed after the playfight, you avert your gaze, still a trace of self-consciousness about yout outburst somewhere deep inside, but none of the "brainworms" that clogged your insides in sight indeed. Johnny's little drama earns him a soft nip on his thumb from you, and he smiles at you, clearly satisfied with the effect their little scheme had.

"Aw, damn, and here I was, ready to hear the pitter-patter of 'em little feet," Kyle's warm lips somehow find their way to kiss your temple, eliciting another shy giggle.

A pillow crashes onto both of you with the force of a small bombshell.

"THAY DINNAE HAE FEET, GARRICK, THAY'RE WORMS!"

Price and Gaz fall into their usual ways seamlessly, responsibilities and tasks split between the two seemingly without even any verbal communication. Clearing out the space around you with the same quick efficiency they clear out enemies with, they prop you up on some pillows, assess your condition in case they got carried away and hurt you, and finally settle on both sides of you, warm hands on your knees squeezing softly.

"Are ya gonna talk to us now, lovie? Or will we have to use interrogation tactics to learn what made our love so upset?" John's voice bears no trace of threat, but it still makes you cower and try to take up even less space that your curled up body already has, which earns you a sigh from the Captain. "I see. Take over from here, Sergeant. I expect results once I return."

The matress sighs with relief a Price's weight leaves it, bare feet padding a few steps before he reaches his slippers and leaves the room. The pit that the sound of your bedroom's door closing opens in your chest is crushing your ribcage with the iron fist of vacum. You can't blame John for not willing to deal with your bullshit, but the hearbreak only reenforces the choking smog in your head that's rasping in a hundred different voices that the only thing you deserve is pure repulsion.

Kyle's soft thumb pads wipe the tears teetering on the arrows of your lashes, and in a smooth movement you find your face cupped and pulled close to his shoulder. His smooth skin sticks to your wet cheek and you find yourself crying like a little kid, the unbearable pain of the revolting dark knots inside somehow replaced with surprisingly more bearable grief over what you consider an ending reltionship. Perhaps John leaving our bed finally shattered your heart, letting the ungodly pressure out and allowing it to beat - and bleed - again.

"We'd really like if ya talked to us, angel. Don't think Captain can stand there bare-ass naked much longer, might catch rheumatism at this point, he's not getting younger, you know..."

"I hope you know I can hear you perfecrly clear, Garrick." You stop mid-sniffle, eyes snapping to the closed door. You can finally see the shadow of a man standing just outside, and the air slowly feels with some flavour you can't distinguish through all the snot yet, but seem to like a lot...

"Good, so your hearing's still intact, sir. You're in good shape," Kyle's cheeky remark must've broken John's famous patience and restraint, because the bedroom door finally opens, and you see him there. With a tray with a whole bunch of tea mugs and little plates of treats balanced in his hands.

"Still not talking? Well, we'll try another method then, lovie. Sandwich for your thoughts, eh?"

His cheeks are round with a kind smile, confusing your tortured mind even further - Kyle uses your stupor to fetch John's big, slightly scratchy bathrobe, successfully wrapping you into a cocoon of grounding stimulation all over your feverish skin. With a huff and a grumble about staying butt-naked a bit longer, John puts a pleasantly warm mug into your hands and looks at you, arms crossed and tucked into his armpits now that he got rid of the tray.

Expecting an answer.

"'M sorry..." seems appropriate right up to the moment when a little finger-sandwich gets shoved into your mouth. The bread is soft, nice, salty ham and crunchy cucumber filling your senses and cracking a bit fat line of light right in the middle of the dense cloud in your thoughts.

"Try again, love," Kyle gives a hint and wipes a crumb off your lips, licking it off his thumb. "We don't need an apology, we just want to know what's troubling ya. John, tell 'em."

"Already did," grumbles Price in response and clears his throat, sitting back down on the creaking bed. "Food's working though. Eat up, darling, get your energy. Then we'll talk properly, a'right?"

You chew slowly, still stiff in your own body, but regaining control gradually. Yes. Then you'll talk.

Ghost and Price exchange a single glance over your from, choking on the self-destructive rage, and John shakes his head so slightly that one can barely notice, but it's clear enough to stop Simon from tumbling down the traumatic spiral staircase of his own. Grounded by his Captain's presence, he shrugs his broad shoulders, shaking off the creeping up feeling of his own monsterous nature, and rolls onto his back, pulling you out of the miserable wet ball of wrinkled sheets and onto his firm lap, sideways, his big palms resting comfortably around your hips; he's not squeezing or digging his fingers into the fat like he usually does, but it's a secure hug you can't really escape.

Exposed held too far away from his chest you could hide on, you shrink, rising your shoulders protectively and trying to cover up your soft belly, spilling over your pelvis in a shapless manner - that's when John's arms come from behind, catching yours and instead of pulling away forcefully, simply repeating your own safety cocoon, hiding your body from your distorted sight and keeping you warm.

"You're not thinking straight right now, darling," every phrase he murmurs gently, calmly, convincingly into your ear is accompanied by a little kiss, beard tickling and burning your already irritated by tears skin. "So good for us, so kind. Can you spare some of that kindness for yourself?"

Even though it doesn't sound like a rhethorical question, Simon cups your cheek and shushes you tenderly, pressing his thumb to your lips, allowing John to continue with his little speech aimed to dispel the storm coagulated in your chest.

"'Cos if not, it's a'right, love. We know it's hard, and ya're doing good already. Ya 'ave us, eh? To love ya, to cherish ya. No need to overthink, jus' let us hold you, a'right?"

He finally pushes you onto Simon's chest, his big heart stuttering with worry as you seek shelter among his many scars that paint a horrifying picture once you put all the fragments together.

"How'd you do that, sir?" Simon's voice sounds vulnerable - so much that it strikes through all the layers of your egocentric self-hatred and shifts you almost immeditely into a completely different mindset; one where you throw your whole self into loving your scarred and battle-worn men in such abundance that it's ought to compensate for all the unfairness they've gone through.

There's no need for it now, you realize a little too late: Price is there, keeping Simon away from the darkness. They're fine. Better than ever. It's a distraction, a trick, a play to make your bleeding heart stop the internal self-destruction and turn to healing.

A sly little switch you're not sure they were planning to flip, but it worked.

"Hm?" As if emerging from the depths of his thoughts in response to Simon's question, John caresses your cheek as gently as his rough thumb can and then smiles, maybe catching onto the change in your mood or simply remembering all the times he pulled Ghost out of the same gloom and darkness. "Jus' taking care of me own, Simon. Tha's what a Captain does, no? Now, love, how about a shower? I reckon we can squeeze in all together and papmer you really good, what do ya say, eh?"

Ghost and Gaz manage to keep their cool. Kyle's confident and gentle presence serves to reassure any doubts Simon has about hurting you, he shoots a single glance at his sergeant and recieves support immediately. Two pair of hands cradle you with all the tenderness two soldiers are capable of, which is always enough to drown you in fully. It's a tight hug, a hot mess of limbs, too much skin on skin contact that makes your brain flare with undirected rage, but as seconds trickle by and you're still trapped between two firm bodies, you have no choice but to slip into the exhaustion phase of your outburst.

It's not pleasant, nor could you say you feel calm; if anything, you just petrify, a permanent frown on your face and blindly staring forward glass eyes. You're tired, you'd still rather be anywhere but inside your own body that still feels like a useless deformed bag that should be gutted and emptied to lighten up, inner layer of your skin scrubbed with a knife to peel off the suffocating thickness of fat trapping this heated rage inside...

Instead, you get a kiss.

It's Kyle, soft, full lips touching your wet with tears cheekbone, then again - your temple, your cheek, the overheated spot behind your ear. They're light, soft kisses, too gentle to be playful or arousing. Calming. They do not demand anything in return - he allows you to stay in your inner world where you feel secure, even pauses to kiss Simon the same way right in front of your eyes. A silent demonstrationg of the love and reverence these pecks carry, Simon's hooded eyes fluttering shut as if his own compartmentalized demons get exorcised by Garrick's touch.

"Wanna talk about it, angel?" Kyle's voice rumbles at a nice, grounding, smooth timbre, and your still-too-slow mind struggles to grasp how is it possible that he's talking and you're still getting kisses - until you recognize the uneven texture of Simon's scarred lips, trailing along your skin tenderly. "Whenever you're ready, love. But we would love to know what's going through your head right now."

It feels strange to say it out lound when you're held and caressed like this, but their kisses and solid embrace cleared your windpipe enough of the mental gunk for you to be able to speak.

"I hate myself... 'M disgusting, and-" A displeased grumbling kiss from Simon interrupts you, and even Kyle pushes his huge shoulder to reprimand his own Lieutenant for the interference. Kisses his temple immediately to make amends, though, and turns back to you, prompting you to continue.

"Wot? Don't like when someone talks shit 'bout mine," grumbles Simon like a dog that got flicked on the nose for growling at welcome guests.

"Let 'em talk, mate, it's good to get things off your chest." At least their little bickering coaxes a tiniest hint of smile out of you, and Simon, noticing it immediately, stares back at Kyle with such pride, as if he just did something great.

The thing is, in the way his arms squeeze you a tad bit tighter, pressing into his firm body, you can read that for him - your smile is the greatest achievement.

"Don't tell me you prefer his silent treatement, angel, I'm trying to be the attentive boyfriend here, and for what?" Your smile grows a little braver. A little brighter. You would've kept talking if you could remember what it was that hurt so fucking much in your chest.

"Shower. Then a cuppa. Then we have the talk." No one dares to argue with the Ghost and his gruff commands. You feel the sheet sticking to your skin as he lifts you up, Kyle already sneaking off to prepare towels and clean clothes for you three. He'll stay with you and help you wash the remaints of the mind attack off. Simon will make fresh tea.

You're going to be alright.

Price and Soap take quite an intense approach the second they notice your distress. You feel Johnny's weight disappear from you after the first strangled sob that escapes you, and if you could open your eyes glued shut by the hot, messy tears, you would see John practically dragging the poor Sergeant away by his scruff. It's easy to suspect that Johnny couldn't contain himself and went too hard, too rough on you - with no malice, but pure passion that's spilling from his big, hot heart every time he gets to be close to you.

But it's not Johnny's fault, neither is it John's. It's all you, a useless, pathetic thing, good for nothing and holding two gorgeous men to yourself like a greedy glutton hoarding delicious food.

"Ah'm sorry, bonnie- ow, Ah got it, Ah got it, Ah'm not touchin'!"

"Did we hurt ya, love? Was Johnny boy too rough wit' ya? Wha's wrong?"

You feel big warm hands gliding over your skin, quick assessment of your state in search of potential harm caused. This immediate care only makes you feel worse, every cold sweaty patch of your disgusting hide shivering and twitching under Captain's careful touch. You struggle against your own spiraling anger, fight it with what's left of your exhausted resilience - and lose, curling up with another burst of tears, shoving the loving hands away and dusting the lingering warmth off your body.

After all, you do not deserve to be treated with such kindness after the fit you just threw.

"No, no, no, it's not his fault, it's not Johnny's... it's me, it's my fault, it's all my fault, I ruin everything, I'm- I'm disgusting!"

The silence that follows you blowing up on them is heavy. Just as bad as the knot in your chest.

"Johnny."

When you open your eyes to find a way out, run away, scatter and hide in the furthest corner of the apartment until everyone who tried caring for you leaves again, you're met with Johnny's bright blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

It's a shocking sight, pushing you out of the muffled misery into an alerted worry - his face is red with unexplainable pained anger, fists clenched as John holds him tightly by hunched shouders, seemingly trying to prevent a violent outburst.

"Ah wanntae ken names of th' bastarts who made ye feelin' tis wa'. Ah swear Ah will mak' thaim fuckin' choke oan thair ain tongues, Ah'll rip thair spines oot 'n' shove thaim up thair-" - "Enough, Johnny. Stand down. This won't solve anythin'. Ya calm down and help our lovie feel better, a'right?"

Still a bit shells-hocked, you stir on the bedsheets and push yourself up to sit upright, stretching your arms hesitantly to the men in a weak attempt to remedy whatever shitstorm you caused in their minds.

"Don't get mad, please," you whisper sheepishly, and the shy sound of your still choked voice seems to wash Johnny's explosive anger away better than the firm grip of his handler's (Price's) hands. With a look of a beaten dog, Johnny huffs loudly, cuddlng up to you and hiding his face in your lap. His heavy jaw sinks in the plush of your thighs, accomodated nicely with the softness of your body.

"'M nae mad at ye, leannan. Jus' dinnae say tha' again, a'right, bonnie? If ye need me tae prove ye-"

"No..." your hand finds it place in his damp mohawk and brushes through, while you glance at John. His eyes are shimmering with love and love only as he looks at you and Johnny, and you feel a wave of shyness - the good, giddy, warm kind - replacing the paralyzing shame. "I'm fine already. With you."

"Maybe we should 'ave a little chat 'bout it, love," John's hand meets yours on the sad mutt's head in your lap, intertwinig fingers with you through Johnny's soft hair. "When ya feel better. Jus' so we know what we're dealing with, eh?"

"Yeah. A bit later. Thank you."

All four of your men get frozen witnessing your reaction, struck with a horrifying sense of helplessness - it feels like the biggest failure among many unsuccessful missions, operations where lives were lost and enemies missed, to have you curling up and crying in misery between all the love they've been pouring onto you just mere seconds ago. As if everything they touch is bound to go up in flames, drown in blood and rot, be it on the outside or from the inside.

They're lost, and as always, they turn to the Captain, giving themselves up for him to direct, trusting that he knows better what use they can be of.

And, frankly, he does.

They're barely talking, but the commotion around you is decipherable even through the red mind fog and closed eyes - it honestly only makes you feel worse, unsafe, exposed, despite that simply being Soap, sent off to fill a bath ("Ye want it hot or a tad bit cool, bonnie?" - Silence. Your nails dig into your scalp, the soud of someone simply breathing, even more so talking to you, sending you into a new fit of rage. "Make it warm, Johnny, we'll adjust later."), and Simon, leaving for tea duty - silently, your favourite way to have it attentively observed in the first two weeks you've been together and memorized ever since.

It's Kyle whose voice, murmuring into your ear sweet, reassuring nothings as he keeps you caged in a tight embrace, your back pressed against his warm chest, forces you out of the highly irritable state. You have no choice between his short, chaste kisses on the crown of your overloaded head, and John's calloused hands massaging your calves, soft flesh dipping under the firm pressure.

"Ya jus' focus on fighting tha' storm off, a'right, darling? We'll take care of th' rest. It happens, we know it does, 's not your fault. Jus' a funny lil' thing your mind does, eh? Yeah, love, we know wha' it's like when your mind does funny things. Don't we, Kyle?"

"That we do." Maybe it's just your own depressive state rubbing off on them or distorting your perception, but Kyle's voice sounds almost solemn. You would turn to look into the smoky quartz of his eyes, but either he holds you too tight, or you have barely any strength left in your upset body - you simply can't.

Maybe it's alright. Maybe tonight they don't need you ripping your heart out to tend to their restless minds, and you can just allow them to take care of you.

Allow Kyle to carry you to the bathroom.

Allow John to stay there and help you wash yourself with a nice, scrubby loofah.

Allow Johnny to bring in his huge, baggy loungewear that doesn't hug your curves too snugly and allows you to simply forget what you were so angry about for a while.

Allow Simon to serve you perfect temperature tea in your favourite mug and keep you quiet company on the balcony, night air cooling your wet and clean now skin and hair further and blowing all thoughts out of your troubled head away.

As you share a cigarette with rich clove aftertaste, breathing ironically becomes easier. Behind your back the bedsheets are being changed, proper meal is being cooked, a good movie you won't be upset falling asleep to is being chosen.

"Simon." - "Hm." - "You sure you're okay with me being like that?" - "Standin' in the wind with your hair wet, tryin' to catch a cold?"

You grunt, not appreciating him taking the piss while you're tryig to be vulnerable, but allow him to pull the hood of Johnny's hoodie onto your head.

"No. I mean, fucked up in the head?"

You don't actually know what answer you expect. With an unreadable expression, Simon turns his head, looking through the glass door at the men crowded in the living room and waiting for you, and then stares back at you with a smirk, a permanent scowl carved into it by someone's cruel hand.

"Nah. Tha's how I like 'em."

He throws the cigarette butt away and chuckles, cupping the back of your head and pulling you inside, into the warmth of home.

"Oi, bonnie! C'mere, As saved ye a spot." There is no spot as you look at the two-story cuddle pile on the sofa and the blanket nest in front of it, unless of course... ah, yes, Johnny's patting his lap. "Ah promise Ah'll behave. Mostly."

And as his warmth envelops you through a big hug, his hands clenched humbly on your belly and behaving indeed, you feel stupidly happy.

Because you're enjoying touch again.

535 notes · View notes

amethystheartsx · 2 months ago

Text

Love Built with Frozen Hands.

Hey!!! in the middle of my health issues and family problems I finally managed to churn out this request. yippe! tho it was rushed i am sorry. This was requested by anon, I hope was up to whatever standard you held me on. hope you like it

contains: SFW, Mild Angst (hurt/comfort), non!mcreader. established relationship. Synopsis: au where Zayne is aware of the past lives he went through, remembers the pain of the toxic cycle Astra put him through, He victoriously breaks it this once in this timeline, to forge a path of happiness for him and mc in separate ways, and ends up falling for you. but sometimes, the ghost of the past comes to haunt you back by targeting what you built from scratch with such devotion

It is one thing to be unloved, and a whole nother thing to be loved half-heartedly.

The yearning to have someone who is supposed to be yours, pining after affection that should be promised to you, and craving the attention that should have never been taken away from you in the first place, it was all too cruel; the worst part? You can't even talk about it to anyone, at least not without sounding insecure....feeling insecure. How are you even supposed to talk about it? How do you tell people that your boyfriend pays just a bit more attention to her? Just a little more care than you like.

are you listening to yourself, she have a terrible heart condition. he is her doctor

The word had rang in your ear one too many times, always making your head hang low in shame. Her doctor, her childhood friend, and the last of something she could hold on to as an anchor.

She had lost so much Caleb and her grandma; she had been through hell and back and still came out stronger than ever, and you couldn't even get over your jealousy?

Did zayne really deserve a partner like you? Or should he be with someone like her.

You did your best. Yes, you did, treating her with the respect she deserved, always keeping a polite demeanor, and never receiving her with a cold attitude. Endurance was a trait that felt like a curse to you but you managed for him, but you were only human.

Zayne had been gone for a whole day now. Mind you, it was one of his rare days off that you had planned to.use for some quality time, but before you could inform him, he informed you that he would be going out with her. Apparently, she had found a place that still sold his favorite Popsicle, one he thought was discontinued, and he looked so genuinely excited you did not have the heart to tell him your plan which was less thought full in comparison, because let's face it, she must have put some extra effort to find that place didn't she?.

If only you could have thought of something with deeper meaning like that, then maybe you would have been the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes.

—--

After throwing yourself a pity party, you decided to fall asleep and get over it. When Zayne did return he found the house quiet and dim which was unlikely, your not staying up till he came back never really happened before, he saunters to the room and sees you asleep, safe and sound in the bed as far as possible from his side as possible, but Jayne thought nothing of it because of course you could just be tired from the day or upset he got so late and slept early, he was sure things would be normal when the sun rises again...but of course, it didn't. They only changed for the worse.

Zayne may not be good with emotions, but actions, he knew very well. Since he was a doctor no little physical detail missed him. The way your kiss didn't linger, felt more like an obligation than an act of love. The way your smile didn't reach your eyes when you saw him return. How conversation got shorter and shorter with each passing day. He noticed how you wouldn't bend and twist your schedule to fit his. Trying to catch each and every available second he had amidst his grueling work hours. How you had started being focused on creating a space for your own, and as much Zayne loved seeing you do well for yourself and focus on yourself and having time for yourself, he wished to be at least a part of it somehow.

On evenings when you both just coexist in the living room doing your respective work, you would sometimes stop doing whatever you were doing just to stare at him with an adoring look till you get scolded by a flustered Zayne, and only then would you go back to work with a dreamy sigh. But now it was only just the endless sound of typing or pen scratching on papers. No jokes, no banters just sounds that turned mechanical after a while.

When it reached to the point zayne could no longer deny that things were not good between you and him, he started to panic.

Being the way he was he doesn't outright confront you but often tries to give you openings to talk about your feelings,

"Hey you have been quiet, is everything alright".

"Eye bags again? aren't you sleeping well?"

"Maybe we could do to cafe together and...talk"

Only to be shut down by you again and again.

Zayne wanted to give you space, respect your privacy but damn it he was going insane. Whenever mc will see him distressed and take him out he barely would have things to say to her and if he did it would be about if he was good enough to be a partner, was there something wrong with him was he just...unlovable?

And each time MC will try to help him, make him understand that it wasn't true, but there was so much she could do. She noticed how Zayne would leap to his phone when it chimed with a specific ringtone he had set for you, a glimmer of relief in his eyes every time he would read your text, no matter how mundane it was, or even short and dismissive. At least...they were some spared words from you.

Zayne came late after a long shift; he hated being used to the silent house again; he hated the lack of warmth in his sheets. The lack of the little sounds you made throughout the day. Whether it be the sound of you humming, talking and gossiping with a friend, your laugh, you working in the kitchen or just dumping weeks worth of information on him, he missed it all so terribly he could not help himself. Not tonight. He finds you on your side of the bed again, as far from his side as possible. He had just showered and changed, slipping in the covers and shifting close to you, lying so he had an arm on your waist, holding you while trying to respect the space you created as much as he had in his heart to take. With deep breaths, he speaks, mostly to lighten the load on his chest

"I- I don't where I have been wrong, but I wish to undo it, unlearn the behavior that had made you so out of my reach. Please yell at me, confront me with my wrong g doings, and hold me accountable...just-just don't shut me out, darling," he choked in a sob, taking a deep breath before closing his eyes and allowing his exhaustion to engulf him to his slumbers with a pained frown on his face. After all, the nightmares he had were nothing compared to suffering from your distance through the day.

Unbeknownst to him, you weren't asleep; you mostly never were. Hoping for something, anything from him, just like tonight. You were unable to move or say something back then but tears that slipped from your eyes reminded you of the beating heart in your chest that still ached for him. The night goes by in a blur; sleep has dripped away alongside those tears, and yet when the morning sun arrives, you keep your eyes closed and pretend to be asleep when he wakes up and shuffles around. Zayne shifts and lifts his weight on his elbow; you can feel his sharp gaze on you; knowing how keen his observation was, you were aware that he knew you were faking your slumber, a pretense to keep him away, to avoid a conversation that would turn to confrontation inevitably. With a heavy sigh, he gets up to prepare himself for yet another day.

You could hear him shower, brush and get dressed. Just when you expect to hear the click of the bedroom door closing behind him, the mattress dips under his weight as he sits next to your sleeping form, those sharp eyes on you once again; one cold hand cups your cheek, rubbing the skin under your eyes.

"I miss you, my love"

His words, though short and simple, carried the weight of his emotions he couldn't express and you almost almost gave in.almost reached back to him but something kept you bound, frozen in place. zayne leans down to kiss your forehead making your pulse quicken but before his lips could make contact with your skin, he pulls away.

zayne was no longer sure if you even wanted him to kiss you, had you had enough of it? Were you done with his kisses? done with him?.

These thoughts made his mind spur, tightening his chest with unbridled feelings he couldn't decipher. He had to get out before he did something uncharacteristically stupid, and so he did. leaving you behind with your own set of conflicting thoughts and whirlwind of emotions.

Why did he back away? Why didn't he kiss? did he finally let go of what little he was holding, after realizing it wasn't worth the hassle? that you weren't worth it?

The thoughts got so overbearing, and you had to remind yourself of the words he spoke last night, things he said that reflected what he wanted, and he wanted her to talk to him, explain what she was feeling, good or bad, and so she decided to do just that.

----

When Zayne was at work he texted you to let you know he would be home early, you noticed how he updated you frequently now about his day no matter how small and irrelevant the detail was he would let you know about it any chance he got. so on your way back you picked up some macaroons from a cafe that opened a few weeks ago, excitement bubbles in your chest to try it out with him. You also sent him a very quick text.

"I'll be home soon too, we need to talk"

Maybe it was because you were carrying too much in your hand, or trying to get away from the crowds of people. You failed to notice the tone of your text that had Zayne freaking out.

The words he never wanted to hear from you, bringing all his fears to life, once again being left alone, abandoned and forgotten.

To wither away without a cause, no one left to mourn the loss.

It was true his soul had loved another in multiple lives, a love fated to face the same demise.

Until he broke to toxic cycle that only hurt him and *her*. Endured and moved on from the pain to find someone he could love and be loved back without the suffering, or so he had thought.

He loved her, he truly did, but now he questioned himself: was it enough, enough to hold her back from flying away from his grasp? Or did he lose his final chance at happiness? She was the beacon of hope, the reward for passing his trials. He never knew loving could be easy, but now he knew that it was easy because you made it so; your selfless love and abundant Care were what made this relationship his safe heaven. If only he had realized that before being on the brink of losing that little beacon he held dearest than he thought.

----

As the storm brewed inside his heart his evol spirals out of control, by the sheer luck of his stars none other than MC was there, for her regular check-up that turned into a therapy session for both of them, she was there when he got the text, seeing her age-old friend who as always so collected and composed lose his mind.

She did what any other friend would do and took him home, trying to console him, but how does one console the man who was always the pillar for others to lean on? Mc stares as she sees him crumble.

This was the love they warned her about.

One way or another she managed to put him at rest. Tears formed in her own eyes to see him so miserable, and she rested her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around in a gentle embrace; a familiar scent and touch calmed Zayne down. Her soft voice begged him not to give up like this and to fight for what he loved. It wasn't you as he wished but at least it was something.

"Am I interrupting something?" Their heads snapped to the direction of the entrance, where you stand, a little box in your hand and some freckles of snow dusted on your hair. An adorable look tainted by the cold expression on your face.

"Darling I..." Zayne gets up as if MC suddenly stabbed him, his long strides eating up the distance. "It's not what it looked like," MC speaks before Zayne can feel the need to clear the air as quickly as possible; as a woman, she could sense the distrusting gaze you gave them.

"...right" you reply in a flat tone barely sparing a glance in her direction, your eyes fixed on him.

"I-I you wanted to talk to me," says Zayne, who had almost crashed into you, to hold you close against his chest before noticing your distant demeanor. Stepping away from him and walking last Mc you made your way to the kitchen

"Hmm I do" you place the box macaroons on the kitchen island and the pair Insta toy follows you there as well. "Oh-it's from the new cafe? These are really good? No, they are my favorite" he makes a desperate attempt for conversation that doesn't send him spiraling again.

"Have you tried it already? It just open not too long ago"

"Yes, me and MC, we-"

"Of course"

Your tone was a little too bitter when you snapped, a sharp glare in her direction. "Of course, you already tried it, both of you. Together. As always," you chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

Mc steps forward "No, no you get this wrong it was just a long day for Zayne and I just-"

"Forgot that he has a girlfriend who also wishes to spend time with him?" You finish for her, making her pale. She opens her mouth to defend herself before Zayne steps in front of you, blocking your view. You look up to meet his unreadable eyes. "This is between us. No need to drag her in, it's me you are mad at., Not her," Zayne says, bringing your attention back to him.

"Not a part of this? Zayne the problem *Is* the fact she has been dragged in way too many times? The problem is the fact that there is a crowd. "You finally say the words after holding them in for so long.

"Listen I never meant to"

"I don't care what you meant too" you snap yet again, taking the other girl by surprise. You had never used this tone with her, not once.

"I- feel for you...MC, I want you to be happy. I want you to have the best, a prince, maybe someone famous, hell, even a mafia overlord if that's what you're into." Tears brim in your eyes as you speak. Would it be crazy to add that you wished for a miracle and have Caleb returned?

Just so he could sweep her off her feet and far away from *your man*.

"But can it not be my zayne" the way your voice broke at the end made the other woman's face soften, the hurt, the pain and the fear of abandonment did not miss her. She was at loss for words opening and closing her mouth before zayne spoke up.

"You need to leave"

The words sank your heart into the deepest pits of despair, wordlessly you grab your bag with a shaky hand before it flies away before you can even hold it, you look up to Zayne who had taken the bag away "I didn't mean you, this is your home" his voice no matter how cool it was at the moment, his eyes made it clear he wanted her to stay. MC didn't want anything more than to leave anyway. She quickly grabbed her bag and aimed for the door. Her feet paused, and she once again turned halfway to face her and spoke, "I am sorry, I really am; I never meant to cause any trouble. He was never mine to even try and take." Before you could even process the words, she was gone.

The silence she left in her wake was deafening.

"Is that what you have been so distant? Because of her?" Zayne breaks the silence. You tried to turn away, but he held you right in your place. "No, you are done trying to get away from me." his assertive voice had an underlying tone that resembled a humble pleading. "There is so much a person can take, and I am at the brink of my own patience." He spoke, but you still pulled away and created distance. "It's not like I wanted to; it's just that's just...." You gulp, taking a deep breath; how dare he stand there questioning when he was the reason for the pain you felt? "You treat her the way I wished you'd treat *me*!"

Your statement made his eyes widen just a little for you to notice. Now that you had started it was time to let it all out, you didn't give him a chance to defend himself raising your voice a notch "you know how I feel like zayne? A place holder. Any moment she says the word and I'll be discarded and forgotten like I never existed for you and-and I know the technicalities alright, her primary physician her childhood friend I know, I know it all" the frustration made speaking a little difficult, heaving a shaky breath makes your voice breaks "but do you remember that in the middle of it all you are something of mine as well!?" Zayne knew words had an impact, but he wasn't aware they could make you bleed.

something of yours as well

His jaw fell slack that he had been clenching so hard. Zayne always felt greedy for defying fates to find you, take you and love you all on his own. Only now he realized he had gotten too greedy, for wanting to keep you and Her in the same boat.

You open your mouth but was silenced by his fingers on your lip, “i apologise if that's how i made you feel, if i gave you the reason to doubt my intentions and sincerity, i take accountability for the fact you felt unloved by me” even if his voice was calm as ever but the shaky breaths he took in the middle of the sentences gave him away.

He knew what had to be done, needed to be done, to keep you by his side as he intended, but he won't deny the fact a part of him was hurt by the fact you would think like that about him if you only knew the forces he had defied to be with you. Zayne took a step closer, holding your shoulders, his cold hands gripped you firmly. "Is that what you think you are to me?" He says gulping down the anger that bubbled in his chest. "A placeholder." The word felt like poison on his tongue. "Just a warm body to hold during cold nights? You think that's what you are to me?” He was more hurt than angry, but in hindsight, he could see that she was not in the wrong to assume due to his own actions, but…she could at least talk to him.

Zayne was nervous, to be more specific, scared.

Right now you were too stunned to speak, the man in front of him was yours, but you had rarely seen him be this vulnerable in front of you. All his life he had thought that to protect your dearest you must always appear strong in front of them, reason why even now he was doing his very best to be composed even if he was hanging by the last thread. The reason he would sometimes let his guard down in front of her but not you.

Because now that he had mastered his own fate, his dearest was not her. It was you.

You allowed him to speak since it was a rare occurrence, something you had tried to pry out of him but failed many times, till you gave up.

“To make your space is okay, to avoid confrontation till you are ready is valid and to hate me for my actions is also fair but…to change” He chokes a sob, and there it was, the tiny crack. “To shut me out completely is not okay, to assume the worst about someone is not right and-”he takes another shaky breath “and to change the trajectory of our relationship on your own…that's just cruel”.

You could see the remorse under the pain, a glimmer of hope in those accusatory eyes. Reaching out to him, you cup his cheeks; Zayne leans into your touch, lower lip trembling ever so slightly; it had been weeks since you touched him like this, so tenderly. “Zaynie.” The sound of his name from your lips, rolling down with such affection, was the last straw before his tears streamed down his face, just a few that turned into tiny and delicate snowflakes on his skin before they disappeared the moment they dripped down from his chin.

“I am sorry” you both say in unison making you giggle just a little, but him? Not so much.

“She means something to me, yes. And i do care about her” zayn's word felt unsavory to you given the circumstances. He leans down sharp green eyes boring into your “But you” he breathes “but you are my everything. I love you, my sweet girl” zayne doesnt waste a second to kiss you, not one of those soft pecks you had given him, a real kiss. One he had been craving for so long now. He pushes you into the counter gently. Making sure you were steady on your step. When you both pull away breathless, he presses a peck on your forehead.

“You shouldn't be sorry-” this time you silenced him, with a kiss. “My turn now.” you say to which he just nodded, a little too flustered to speak anyway. “I am sorry i avoided the problem instead of solving, but i was scared, scared that if i push it too far and it comes down to it, you will choose her over me” you couldn't meet his eyes when you said that. Zayne grabs the wrist of your hand that was on his cheek and pulls you flush into his chest and wraps his arm around your waist .

If only you knew that he had chosen you such a long time ago.

“I missed you so much. Please, don't ever make me feel alone again.” Your voice was still a little breathy from the kiss, and it was making his head spin, but he knew he had to control there was still a lot to actually discuss. “And I missed you, darling,” he sighs; he doesn't let go, though, resting his chin on your shoulder while your face is nuzzled into his chest. Just basking in each other's presence. “I promise I will do better, Let's talk things out, yeah. We can set whatever boundaries you want to have. There is nothing I won't do just to keep you by my side, love; you are the destiny I choose for myself”.

As much as you know your relationship needs work, on both ends. His sincere words made you assured the love you wove together, would keep you warm for a long time.

352 notes · View notes

iamthatonefangirl · 13 days ago

Text

oxytocin - nsfw fatws bucky barnes

disclaimer: depictions of mental health issues ie ptsd, depression, etc. slight suicidal ideation if you squint. rough, fully consensual sex. mentions of trauma and past abuse (bucky/hydra you know how it is).

inspired by oxytocin by billie eilish??? if you look closely you'll see the lyrics i pulled from the song

longest one shot i’ve ever written at 5.1k!!!

~~~

life after hydra was miserable for a lot of reasons.

obviously the guilt, and the shame, and the pain, none of it would ever go away.

the nightmares. the flashbacks. all of it tore him up inside day in and day out. but there came a point when things seemed to be... bearable again. tolerable.

dare he say, even, enjoyable?

he didn't think he deserved to enjoy anything anymore, ever again. he deserved the emotional pain he felt in his head, eternally punishing him for the terrible acts he'd committed as his alter ego.

and then, one day, you came along. the prettiest girl he'd ever seen with an attitude that could rival his own. you were utterly perfect.

getting it through his thick head that he deserved to have you, to have some sense of happiness and love in his life was almost an impossible task.

you got through to him with enough soft touches and sweet words and maybe the best head of his life.

and suddenly, you were his ride or die.

~~~

after hydra, and once things seemed bearable again, he began to miss his old life.

can you blame him? in a world of crazy unknowns, fancy technologies, and weird colorful rocks, he longed for the life he used to have.

he missed living in Brooklyn. he missed his best friend who up and left him (he's still working on coming to terms with that). he missed the simplicity of how things were in the 1940s before the chaos rained down on the world as he knew it.

he would never get to see his family again, or any of the local haunts he loved frequenting as a young man.

he fought himself day in and day out for missing all these things. he didn't deserve to have any of those delights anymore, after all. and he certainly didn't want to make you think that he longed for a different life than the one you two had built together.

sure, once upon a time, you'd get married in the middle of a terrible world war. he'd be gone for months at a time, and afterwards, you would pop out a couple of cute kids. you would be the homemaker and he would be the breadwinner.

he missed a lot, but he absolutely wouldn't trade the relationship you had together, no matter how different it is from what he once pictured his life to look like. he loved you and would absolutely not trade you for anything in the world.

not even those miserable 80 years, because they had at least brought him to you.

~~~

there was nothing wrong with your relationship with Bucky. you loved him more than anything, without a doubt. you'd take a bullet for him.

but you sucked at comforting him when he woke up from a nightmare, or when he was having a bad day. the words always failed you somehow. so you made up for it as best you could with your actions, holding him tight as he cried or silently taking over his tasks so he could get some rest.

he was perfect, no matter how broken he thought he was. he was a good man at heart, always so good to you, and god he was so pretty, too.

you would never tell him how hot he looked when he got angry, or violent, because he did everything in his power to hide that side of himself from your innocent eyes. if you ever saw him like that, he wouldn't be able to live with it.

you secretly, silently craved it. you would love the chance to watch him work, for him to come home all bloody and bruised. to shove you on the floor, take what he wanted, leaving rug burns on your back and bite marks all down–

it was a fantasy, nothing more. you would never force him to relive the trauma he'd endured just to satisfy your own horny desires. you would keep that shit to yourself. he'd probably think you were crazy for it, anyway.

so you relished in the moments when his hands gripped your hips just a little too tight as he came, and the flashes of pure, raw emotion you could see in his eyes sometimes. you committed those to memory.

you hid the hand-shaped bruises from him, knowing he'd refuse to touch you ever again if he saw them. you'd press your own fingers into the marks when he wasn't looking, just to replicate the feeling, to make you wince, particularly when you were alone and had time to get yourself off.

he would never know you were always left craving more. it wasn't fair to hurt him like that.

~~~

the worst part of life after hydra was the constant reminder that he didn't trust himself.

he only adjusted to the differences in his body due to the serum after he escaped from hydra, when he could retrain his brain on how strong he was now and how to control it.

although he had a grip on it now, he still didn't trust his own strength, his own power. he couldn't trust that he wouldn't lose it again.

this was made worse when you got together. it was his biggest fear that he would end up making you scared of him and pushing you out of his life.

of making you see him as the monster he saw in the mirror.

if that ever happened, he wouldn't see any point in living anymore. so he was always careful with you, treating you with the utmost delicateness of touches, of words, all of it controlled and deliberate.

yet there was a part of him from before hydra that still lingered.

the part of him that wanted to just act without thinking, take without asking, really give it to you. but that was entirely off-limits, he couldn't even entertain the thought of being rough with you because what if he went off the rails again?

so no, he wouldn't entertain any of the ideas he used to get off to before the war, before hydra, before he was a weapon of mass destruction. there was no way he could cross that line. no.

~~~

one day, you were curious. you scrolled on your phone as he watched tv, his arm wrapped around you. you couldn't help but get it stuck in your head. it was an innocent enough question, right?

"how strong are you, really?" you ask. he freezes for a moment, looking down at you before turning his gaze back to the television.

"dunno, why?" he grumbles, acting uninterested.

"curious, I guess," you respond honestly. you scroll for a few more minutes before you push again. "but like, if you went to the gym with me, what's the heaviest you could lift?"

he shifts as though uncomfortable. why are you asking?

"lets just say the gym would be... a pointless endeavor for me."

you scoff. "that strong, huh?"

"why are you asking?" he asks as he looks back down at you, this time pausing the movie on the screen.

"curious," you repeat. he's not satisfied with that answer, clearly. "what, it's hot to have a boyfriend who's strong, okay? and clearly I'm beating out all my friends in that department."

"so you're asking so that you can brag to your friends?"

you roll your eyes. "that's what you got from what I just said? I just told you it's super hot, okay." you reach to grab at his bicep just then, afterwards trailing your fingertips down the vein that bulges in his upper arm and trails all the way down to his hand.

he's got a little smirk on his face when you look back up. you take it as an invitation to ask another question.

"what about your left hand? is it stronger?"

"yeah," he grunts. "better grip strength, probably. doesn't get tired out, either."

"were you stronger than Steve?"

he's the one scoffing now. "obviously."

that makes you laugh. "obviously," you repeat, and you settle back against his arm as he turns his attention back to the television.

you know better than to ask for a demonstration of his real strength.

~~~

Bucky's good days far exceed the number of bad days he has nowadays. but that doesn't mean a bad day never happens.

you get out of bed in the morning and give him a kiss as you leave for the day. you have a feeling he'll be in the same spot when you get home that evening.

you stop and pick up dinner on your way home, knowing your time will be better served being with him in bed than spending an hour in the kitchen.

you enter the bedroom, and sure enough, he hasn't moved from the bed. you kick off your shoes at the entryway and walk over to where he's laying.

"you awake, baby?" you ask tentatively. he says a quiet "yeah."

"have you eaten today, baby?" you continue, even though you know the answer. he opens his eyes to look at you before shaking his head 'no.'

you hate seeing him like this. you wish he saw himself the way you saw him.

you change your clothes and crawl into bed with him, encouraging him to sit up. he thanks you when you hand him his meal and you sit in the silence together as you eat.

he all but wraps himself around you after you're both done with your dinner, burying his face in the crook of your neck. you hear him whisper into your ear unintelligibly. you ask him to repeat himself, and it takes him a minute to gather the courage to ask you the question again.

"why aren't you scared of me?"

you had wondered if this was one of the things on his mind today. of all the cruel thoughts his brain came up with, you hoped he wouldn't be forced to endure his insecurities regarding your relationship. you loved him so much, you wished you could pluck all those thoughts out of his head.

"because I trust you, baby. even when you don't trust yourself. I trust you," you reassure him. you keep your hands in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. it takes him a few minutes to speak again.

"what if I hurt you?"

that makes you want to roll your eyes to yourself.

"you won't hurt me," you tell him. he's a good man, he loves you. you know he would never lay a hand on you ever, even if you asked him to. which you know better than to do, exhibit A being this right here.

"what if I do?"

"how exactly would you do that?" you ask, almost laughing, though not at him but at the incredulity of what he's asking you. he shrugs his shoulders in response. "you could never hurt me."

"I could. I... I have."

now, you think, he's just being ridiculous. he pulls back to look at you.

"the other day," he clarifies.

what the hell is he even talking about?

he continues, "I'm not... not stupid, baby. I left bruises on you."

you shake your head. "yeah, but that didn't hurt me," you say without thinking. he looks confused, so you try again. "that's not, like, a bad thing, James."

"I hurt you."

"no, you didn't," you say with more force than you intend. "it didn't hurt me, James. it was... good."

you can't believe you're actually admitting this to him right now. you never planned to, but right now, your only goal is making sure he knows he didn't do anything wrong. you would sooner take a bullet than let him think he hurt you in any way.

"don't lie to me to make me feel better," he says, clearly upset.

"I'm not lying to you!" you reinforce. "please, baby, don't think I'm lying. and don't think I'm crazy either when I say that it feels good, alright?"

he looks appalled at what you're saying right now. you hope he doesn't end up hating you for this, you think, as he sits up again.

you're not prepared for the next words out of his mouth.

"can I see them? the marks?"

you nod, still lazily laying down, and adjust your pajamas so he can see the yellow markings on your waist where the bruises are half-faded.

he brings his flesh hand to them, lining his fingers up and pressing into them. you can't help the moan that comes from your mouth.

he looks up to your face, astonished.

neither of you say anything about it as he moves your clothes back into place and again lays down next to you, pulling you in to hold you tightly against him.

~~~

the thought stays with him for days afterwards.

he believed what you said, that you weren't lying to him. that you actually liked it. but, why?

you should be scared of him, he thinks. you should run away from him.

but god, the way you moaned so shamelessly when he pressed on the marks... surely they were still slightly painful. and yet you liked it.

he refuses to let himself think it's okay going forward. he refuses to let himself wonder about leaving his handprints on you deliberately, or pulling on your hair to manhandle you, or...

he can't let himself think about it. he doesn't trust himself. he can't entertain any ideas that might possibly lead to actually hurting you, even if you might possibly be okay with all of this, or if you might even welcome it, just maybe?

would you let him? did you want it so bad that you might even beg him for it?

he wonders if maybe it's not the end of the world to entertain his sinful thoughts.

~~~

the next time you have sex, something is different.

he still treats you with the utmost love and care he always does, asking if you're okay with things and kissing every inch of you.

it's different, though.

his fingers dig into you a little bit deeper, hardly even noticeable. but you notice it as he grabs more harshly at your ass, uses your hair to pull your head to the side to expose your neck to him to leave a mark on you.

he never leaves marks.

when he eats you out, he works with conviction. it's faster and more desperate, and you're not prepared for how much more whiney you are for him.

it even shocks you when he pulls away at the last minute. he never pulls away before you finish.

you cry out, whining and pleading for more in your shock, and he doesn't wait before he begins to fuck you so nicely to make up for it.

it's not that different. but something's changed.

you can't help but wonder if he'll do even more next time.

~~~

he never gets any rougher than that, though. he starts to make a habit of edging you, though, something that makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs in frustration. and yet, it's so good.

one time, he does the same exact thing, using his mouth on you so perfectly, all up until–

god, you actually do scream when he pulls away this time.

"James, you're torturing me," you all but sob.

"do you like it when I torture you?" he whispers into your ear.

your ruined orgasm is forgotten, and your breathing stops. what did he just say? he sounded so hot saying it, but you could tell there was a genuine question in asking.

"yes," you whine in response. he takes a moment before speaking again.

"do you want me to do it again?" he says, somehow even more seductive than the first time.

"yes," you repeat, sounding desperate as all hell.

he nips at your inner thighs, making you gasp with every pinch.

he turns you onto your stomach, which isn't that rare of an occurrence, but it was still unexpected.

he edges you again from behind, making you cry out, "please!" before he finally shoves into you.

~~~

you lay next to him, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavier than you think you ever have before. you look over at him, and he's looking at the ceiling too, so you revert your gaze.

you swallow, trying to will the words to come. you have to talk about it. he wants it, he's capable of it, you just have to ask–

"I'm gonna hop in the shower," he says, standing and walking to the bathroom without looking at you.

you don't end up asking.

~~~

something is wrong with your for-you page. every damn video you see as you scroll through tiktok is one of those stupid videos about other people's sex lives. a video of a girl on a stairmaster, "forced to do cardio because the cardio I want to do is busy." Bucky never fails to make you come, but god the videos drive you up a wall thinking about what you want but can't have.

eventually, you've had enough of tiktok. you're stressed, and you're confused, and you can't get yourself to just ask him for what you want. it's still too much for him.

you shove yourself up off the couch in your frustration, which of course, he notices.

"what's wrong, baby?" he asks you so sweetly. god, he's so perfect, why do you have to go and want more from him? you're going to ruin this.

you turn to him with a fake smile. "nothing, baby. just going to the gym."

"okay. should I make us dinner reservations for tonight?"

that would be great, you think to yourself. a nice, romantic evening with your perfect man.

"yes! that sounds fun," you smile for real this time.

although you're going to the gym to distract yourself, you can't help but think about all the things you wish you were doing instead.

~~~

that evening after dinner, you can't keep your hands off one another. you hurry back home, skipping dessert, craving only each other.

he grabs at your skin like he needs you, needs this so bad or he'll just about die if he can't have it.

he's holding you tight to his chest, his arms wrapped around your back, putting his mouth to your neck as he unzips your dress. without thinking, he places a harsh smack on your ass, and you all but jump.

he freaks and pulls away from you. "baby, shit, sorry. I didn't mean to."

"do it again," you plead, grabbing the lapels of his suit. "again. please."

you wait a minute, waiting for a reaction. when he doesn't move, you drop your head in resignation, pulling your hands away from him.

"we need to talk about this," you begin.

"what- what are you talking about?" he tries. he's so afraid of this conversation, so afraid you're gonna tell him off.

"you've been different lately," he hears you tell him. no, fuck, has he fucked this up for good?

"I'm so sorry, I never meant to..." he trails off, although he's not sure what it is exactly he's trying to say.

"I like the way you've been different lately. I want more," you say, and you feel like you're baring your soul to him right now.

"you want-"

"yes. I want you to do anything you please, anything at all. just use me, goddamnit."

if he wasn't straining against his pants before, he was now.

"that's not right, baby, you deserve better than that," he says, almost laughing in his nervousness.

"but I want that," you say quietly.

he pauses for a solid minute, absorbing what it is you're saying to him. it's not right, it's not, he tries to tell himself.

but how can it be wrong if you both want it? you trust him, something that took him months to come to terms with. you trust him wholeheartedly. you trust him to just... use you. take you, as he pleases.

you see the moment it clicks in his head. his head tilts in your direction, ever so slightly, as his eyes go black.

yes.

"you sure about this?"

you nod.

"any limits?"

you shake your head.

his eyes go darker than you thought possible.

he moves towards you again. his hands come to your waist where your dress loosely hangs, unzipped but still not discarded. his hold on you is more firm, more confident than ever before.

"you tell me the second you want to stop."

you nod.

"good. now, you're gonna do everything I say."

you shudder. you all but melt into the floor as you realize he's finally going to give you everything you want.

"yes, I will," you affirm. you feel like you're in a dream. is this a dream? is he really about to fuck you into next week?

he proceeds to gently pull off your dress, half hanging over your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. "so pretty. all mine," he comments as he looks you up and down. "take the rest off," he orders.

you begin to reach for your heels when he stops you. "not those. leave those on."

you smirk as you strip down, bared in front of him. it feels kind of weird to be standing here like this, on full display for him, but the look in his eyes is hungry. you can't help but blush and feel good about yourself when he looks at you like that.

he reaches for your hand, bringing you to the bedroom with him. he lays down first and pulls you on top of him. his flesh hand runs through your hair gently before gripping it like a handle.

he pulls you down, down, down, until you've shifted enough to the point where your face is level with his belt buckle.

"I think you know what to do," he taunts, still holding your hair. you immediately listen, working to undo his belt and his pants. you gasp when you see he's gone commando.

"nice little surprise for you, huh, baby?" he teases. "I've got one more for you too. come on, now, don't keep me waiting."

you wrap your lips around the tip, sucking on him like he's your lifeline.

"I'm gonna use that bratty mouth of yours, and you're gonna take it like a good little girl," he directs. you moan at the thought. god, yes please, you think to yourself. "you need me to stop, you squeeze my knee."

you nod while you still can, and suddenly, he's well and truly fucking your mouth. his hand in your hair leaves no room for you to move, or pull against his grip, not like you would want to anyways. he shoves himself down the back of your throat, grunting every time he does.

you know he's got stamina, but damn, this is something else. he's moving so fast, you can't help but wonder how good it's going to feel when he actually fucks you at this pace.

he slows to a halt, holding you down on him completely. your nose is pressed up against his lower abdomen and you try your best to breathe through it.

"fuck, swallow, babygirl. swallow around my dick while I'm buried deep in your throat."

you don't hesitate. it takes you a minute to get your throat to cooperate, but you do it, and the noise he makes is music to your ears.

"again," he whines, voice rough and broken.

you do as he says once more before he picks up the pace again.

"you're gonna swallow every last drop, or I'm gonna smack your ass until you can't sit down tomorrow."

you moan like hell when he comes down your throat, listening obediently to his words, happy to do everything he commands.

he pulls you off him and pulls you by the hair to bring you in to kiss him. it's rough, and messy, and you love it. you grip the lapels of his jacket as he's still fully clothed, and it makes you even more slick between your thighs.

before you know it, he's moving you again, and you're on your elbows and knees.

"fuck, babygirl, you look so good like this for me, you know that?" he begins, rubbing his hands across the expanse of your back before leaning to whisper in your ear. "you know something else?"

you whimper in response.

"I wanna do bad things to you."

god, you can barely take it. his voice is like a chill down your spine, and you crave every thing he plans on doing to you.

"yes, yes, please," you whine. you hardly even sound like yourself with how desperate you are.

"the only words out of your mouth from now on are please, yes, or stop. do you understand me?"

your eyes roll back in your head and your limbs struggle to hold you up.

"understood."

"good girl," he coos before moving back behind you.

he takes his hands off you entirely, and you mourn the loss, whimpering into the otherwise quiet room. all you want is his touch, no matter how he gives it to you, and now he's not even doing that?

his hands come to your ass and pull you apart for him, leaving you more exposed and on display than you've ever been in your life. he can see everything right now, and you're completely at a loss.

"that's right, look at you, dripping all over the place for me," he says, running a finger up and down your wet folds, teasing you. he does it a few more times, making you whimper once more for him.

"oh, I know, you just wish I'd give it to you," he mocks, pulling his hands away. anything, anything at all, you swear–

suddenly, his thumb is pressing into your asshole, and you yelp.

"you're so loud, aren't you?" he continues to tease, barely working you open, just enough to make you feel the presence. "what do you think the neighbors would say if they were listening through the walls, princess, huh? you think they'd think you're a little slut?"

you're almost shaking. you're nodding, even though he can't see it, and begin to chant, "yes, yes, yes," like a mantra.

he chuckles. "yeah? you enough of a slut to let me put a little plug up here, hmm? you just need me to fill all your little holes like a little fleshlight, a little toy, all for me to use."

the noises you make are dastardly. he's right, the neighbors are gonna hear you, you think. you try to get a handle on it, biting down on your lip.

his thumb presses forward again, making you inhale sharply. "don't you dare be quiet. I don't give a crap if the neighbors hear, because I expect you to let me hear. I wanna make you yell my name."

"yes, yes, James," you repeat, absolutely fucking wrecked under his touch.

suddenly, both of his hands are once again gone from your skin, no longer giving you the beautiful shock of energy they always give you.

"spread your legs some more," he orders, and you do, jutting your knees further apart to make more room for him. "that's it. wanna see what you can take."

his vibranium hand comes down, smacking your pussy with a wet slap. the motion makes you jolt forward, but you right yourself back into position, knowing he won't be pleased otherwise.

his hand comes down on you again, again, and again. you're in pure bliss, feeling overly sensitive and craving it more than you ever have. you almost can't believe you're finally getting what you want, that he's finally taking it from you.

"I think you're ready for your next surprise, babygirl."

he seems to be making a habit of surprising you this evening, or maybe your brain is just too intoxicated by him to keep up. you whine, trying to indicate to him to go on.

"what do you say?" he says, pulling at your hair to make you look him in the eyes.

"please," you say, water falling from your eyes and your mouth.

"I'm gonna give you what you've been asking me for. I'm gonna fuck you raw, baby."

you're not at all ready when he pushes his dick in and begins to thrust like there's no tomorrow, not even prepping you or giving you any chance to adjust.

you cry out, making noises dirtier than you ever have before. the thought of him finally being inside of you without any protection... you've been waiting patiently for this day to come.

any words you might be trying to say come out unintelligible. every other sense in your body has turned off, and all you can do is just feel the way he's ruining your body, doing to it what he wants.

suddenly you can hear again when he reminds you, "come on, sweetheart, you know what I want to hear," coupled with a slap to your ass for good measure.

"James," you begin to say, over and over in time with his movements.

"are you ready for this?" he asks, beginning to sound as wrecked as you feel. it's nice to know he's just as ruined as you.

"yes," you tell him.

"come with me, baby, come on. you can do it. say please,"

"please," you try, and it barely makes it past your lips.

it must be good enough for him to hear, because his fingers come to your clit, making you feel that all-encompassing pleasure you've been craving since the first time you had sex with this man.

it's perfect. the moment he releases deep inside you, the first time he's ever come deep inside you, it spurs your own orgasm, making your jaw drop in a silent scream.

the minute he pulls out of you, you collapse onto the sheets, a sweaty mess. you reach a hand down to feel where he drips out of you, and you're ready to get down on your knees and thank him for finally giving it to you.

it all comes back to you after a minute that your heels are still on, your jewelry is still in place, and your mascara is surely smeared all over your face by now.

you feel him lay half on top of you, holding an arm around your waist as you come down.

you turn to face him, smiling, and he's smiling too.

"was that good, babygirl?" he asks, breathless. he truly does just want to know that he did good for you, and it makes your heart melt even more.

"I love you so goddamn much," you breathe, laughing from the pure joy you feel in the moment.

"I love you too," he assures you, kissing your forehead.

"I got some even worse ideas for next time..." you taunt. he laughs and presses his lips to yours, kissing you into oblivion.

~~~

masterlist

join my tag list

bucky tag list:

@clavedelune @starfly-nicole @avengersfan25 @thewiselionessss @hextech-bros @a-book-lover-things @ruexj283 @mrsnikstan @sleepysongbirdsings @sapphirebarnes @bananababygirl10 @multiversefanfics

155 notes · View notes

talkbycolor · 1 year ago

Text

I deserve this

A/N; at this point its obvious that i inspire in rebzyyx songs

Pairing; "Your Boyfriend" x AFAB!Reader (cus people are scared of the word trans)

CW; reader becomes willing at the end i swear / unhealthy, obsessive and possesive love / sensitive topics such as mental health, depression, anxiety, fear of abandonment, dissociation, suicidal thoughts / a crazy concept: he talks about his emotions!! / non-con, violence, like, i cry while i masturbate

It's quite blurry trying to remember how it all started, it seemed harmless to accept a date from a stranger, he gave you a beautiful rose and was quite kind to you.

Feeling that people could like you, that someone could be romantically interested in you, because of who you are, your personality, that they knew your… desires?

Because you had dreams, of course.

…

Your dream was to live, to live a quiet life, a stable, pleasant job, with good pay, a normal and peaceful life, where the deep emptiness in your heart was non-existent, years had passed and the monotonous feeling did not disappear, you had already accepted the pain, after all, if you felt that constantly it was probably because you did something wrong at some point, right?

But that was a personal dream that would never be shared.

And it's not like that matters now, not when you're in… A room, that's funny, your last memory is of Peter slamming you against the table to tie your limbs since their last date didn't end as expected and It was time to go home.

Return to an empty home, for what? Peter was more than willing to take care of you, why was he so scary? Accepting it would have made things easier, but you ruined everything by trying to run away, you even fought tooth and nail, that was too pathetic now that you remember it, maybe you DO deserve all the shit that is happening.

You could have saved yourself so much terror and attacks.

"PETER ENOUGH! PLEASE! LET ME GO! NO! NO! FUCK, PLEASE!" You tore out your throat with terrified screams and tried to claw at his skin until your fingers were bloody, biting the hands that tried to stop your screams, hitting his face with your elbows and kicking him away, crawling like a dying animal away from him. "PETER!" You sobbed sharply before losing consciousness.

But nothing worked, resisting only made all that shit worse and now you were tied up, in Your boyfriend's old clothes.

You barely remember how you got to that place, or if time passed, anyway that doesn't matter anymore, from one day to the next you find a very small piece of clothing that turned out to be yours, time passed, your body grew but your mind didn't, they keep lying but you know that your life will depend on how well you do it.

And you're not doing it right, you tried to adopt toxic happiness but you couldn't even maintain it for a while before exploding, sadness was already an everyday thing and you just weren't feeling it anymore.

"Dear?"

Just peace please, how hard could that be? It was annoying, you even felt angry for feeling so empty, because people were so rude and the constant rejection killed you socially.

It was hard to breathe, wasn't it?

"Love? Do you hear me?"

It feels like the end, your soul is bleeding, you wish your stupid job made you feel a little more alive and motivated to continue.

And now you have done so many things to escape from that monster that pulls you back to the room to devour you under the bed.

"Darling!" Your boyfriend's voice echoed through the room, making you look at him once and for all, your eyes tired despite having been unconscious most of the time.

"…" You wanted to respond, really, but what were you supposed to say?

"You must be exhausted, you didn't even touch dinner" It was a tricky phrase, he had tried to feed you since you were tied up.

"Peter-…"

"I already told you that I prefer to be called other way, honey" He responded with a smile and a definitely not irritated tone.

"I want to sleep" He left your lips, he was being so caring, taking care of your health.

He kidnapped you.

And you couldn't even thank him for it.

He knocked you out.

You really were an ungrateful shit, weren't you?

He locked you up.

You wanted to return the signs of affection.

Soon the ropes left your body, Peter helped you stand up and you both walked to the bedroom, he was still carrying a small plate with a light dinner, he refused to let you go to bed without having eaten dinner.

Once in bed, he made sure that you had a proper dinner, and he helped you change your clothes so that you would be comfortable in bed, he also did the same with his attire and now you were both lying down. It always made your stomach churn when he looked at your half-naked body.

"Dear" He murmured next to you while you tried to sleep as soon as possible, so many things had happened those last few days that the only way out was to sleep, you had probably already been fired from your job for not showing up. "Honey, love, darling," he said sweetly as his hand went up to your cheek, he simply looked at you with a huge and probably painful smile on his face, almost tattooed, you made him so happy with your mere presence.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, your mind still cloudy enough to refuse anything, so you just went up to kiss him, the room was very dark and there weren't even crickets echoing at night, the amount of silence was overwhelming… of course, that didn't count the lip-smacking they shared.

So it continued.

For a long time.

"Pet-…uhm, I mean, honey, I'm tired and I want to sleep" You interrupted the honey session.

"Please, you don't have to do anything, just let me love you, darling" his voice was soft, soothing to that darkness but not to the painful weight in your heart and the knot in your stomach, his touches felt strange.

You know that's wrong, you don't like it.

You didn't stop him, just like he said, you let him love you as you closed your eyes and a buzzing sound echoed in your head, like television static, your bottom clothes had disappeared, but that didn't matter.

You couldn't hear anything, you didn't see anything, your body reacted but your mind was very far from that place, you wandered through your memories, fantasies of a life you were never going to have.

It was really digging into your cunt, huh? Even when your mind wanted to flee somewhere else, it was undeniable how he held your thighs and you gasped heavily with each thrust.

His member was still dripping his seed, did he use protection? You don't know, you don't care.

It doesn't matter.

B e cau se s oon y o u w il l b e d ea d.

"Honey? Didn't you enjoy it?" Peter asked with a worried frown.

What the hell is wrong with you? Do you no longer have respect for yourself? You know it's going to hurt you.

Don't you mind dying? You lost hope and you don't even try to help yourself anymore, damned and pathetic attempt at being human, really unnecessary.

"Honey…" Peter caressed your cheeks and brought his forehead to yours, sighing softly and carrying your body to the bathroom in the room.

You didn't say anything either, you just felt how it was cleaning your body, the water was warm, the bathtub full of bubbles, and it smelled pretty good, like coconut soap. Peter hummed quietly as he treated your body with the utmost affection, you were sure he was whispering things in your ear but you were barely aware of your surroundings.

When your eyes finally focused on something you could see the ceiling of the room thanks to the moonlight, Peter was behind you, hugging your body, caressing your hair, and sniffing the soapy fragrance.

"You are so sweet, so unique, so kind, so special to me, a truly exceptional person, I will do everything to make you feel comfortable, darling, I love you so much, my adorable-…"

"Peter"

"… Yes love?" This time he didn't argue about that name, you were finally talking and that was good.

"I'm sorry I feel so alone, I know you're here but…" You wish you could give him an answer but that was something even you hadn't figured out yet.

"It's okay, honey, I'll be with you to hold you, forever."

♡

#yandere x reader #your boyfriend #yandere visual novel #yandere #your boyfriend peter #yb x y/n #yb game #yb peter #your boyfriend x reader #smut #tw noncon #afab reader

1K notes · View notes

green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle · 7 months ago

Text

IN GOOD HANDS

Chishiya x gn!reader, headcanons - Chishiya as reader's doctor. WRITTEN WITH MANGA VERSION OF CHISHIYA IN MIND

general masterlist

Being Chishiya's fav patient includes:

♦️ Him trying to be as indifferent about you as he was towards every other patient, but for a reason unknown to him being unable to. He tries his best to not think too hard about what makes you different, to not pay this strange feeling any attention, to pretend it doesn't exist... But one day during check up it just comes to his mind. Your smile... It felt like your face was smiling at him from his childhood memories and then he understood.

You had the exact same smile as the Mona Lisa. This famous painting's replica used to hang over the fireplace in his family home. As a lonely and neglected child he used to look at it for hours, drawn to it in special way.

♦️ Since that day he just couldn't help but look for you in hospital corridor and look forwards to your check ups. It annoyed him so much but he simply wished to see you more. Just to make sure once again that you've still got him in a chokehold.

♦️ One time during his night shift he came to check up on you and found you asleep. Such a perfect opportunity to confront this feeling inside his chest without having to confront you. He admired your appearance, the shape of your nose and the way moonlight framed your face. Still asleep, you smiled at him gently. The icy walls around his heart begun to melt. He brushed hair out of your face and came back to his office with a heavy heart.

♦️ Chishiya dreading the day your recovery ends and you will leave the hospital. Don't get me wrong, he does all he can to bring you back to health and he cares about your well-being, but the thought of never seeing you again taunts him. He sometimes wonders, if you would allow him to be the part of your life if he asked you out or proposed to stay friends once you are no longer his patient. Deep down he knows he won't offer you anything like that - he feels like you deserve better people around you than such a cold and selfish soul as him.

♦️Him noticing how you warm up to him. He was not the only one waiting for your next meeting all day long anymore, you were just as excited to talk with your handsome, intelligent and observant doctor. You could feel how much he cares about your health and it made you feel safe under his care. Your welcoming attitude was like a thorn in Chishiya's heart, he was so sure that it would quickly change into disgust if you knew what kind of man he truly was. Seeing you so kind and happy because of him made him feel like a master manipulator. He never cared about being a honest person, but for you he knew he had to try.

♦️In desperate attempt to be sincere, he visited you one evening during his night shift. Everybody else was already asleep or pretending to be. He sat down next to your bed and for the first time in his life he truly opened up. He told you about his lonely childhood, his neglectful, workaholic parent, about the numbness following him wherever he goes, his lack of care for both his own life and everybody else's, even this situation when he threw out dying patient's last letter to his family. You observed him with concerned expression but you didn't interrupt. Once he was done, Chishiya felt a strong wave of relief wash over him, even if he was sure you no longer see him as a good person you want to have anything to do with. Yet, none of the harsh words he expected flew out of your mouth. You let him know you don't want to judge him and his apathy doesn't make him a bad person, only his choices can do so. You were empathetic but rational and calm as you spoke up and he found strange comfort in your attitude.

♦️ You opened up to him about your own past as well, and he wanted to listen about it. He never wanted to know much about his patients, they were just bodies to fix in his eyes, nothing more, but you were different. He wanted to know everything about you, from how you like your eggs in the morning to what do you think is the sense of life. He was intrigued by your thoughts about philosophy and true nature of humanity. You found each other deep and complex, two tired souls seeking for answers in illogical world. This conversation opened up a new chapter in your relationship - one that will last way beyond your stay in this hospital.

#chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #x reader #alice in borderland #chishiya alice in borderland #aib chishiya

253 notes · View notes

kquil · 2 years ago

Text

SIRIUS BLACK | HIS FUTURE WIFE

request : Hi, this is my first time requesting so I don't really know how 😅, but can you write something with Sirius being in love with reader and basically just like jily type of love where he always follows her and calls his future wife — @moonlightwonderland

length : 1.1k

“There’s my girl,” Sirius grins, walking up to you with his arms open as if he was expecting a hug.

“I’m not your girl, Sirius,” you huff, clutching your books closer to your chest and side stepping, avoiding his arms entirely. It’s been a year since Sirius Black has decided to pursue only you and abandoned his playboy persona. Now he was a committed man. His entire focus has zeroed in on you and you hate it. You hardly used to draw any attention but now, most of the female population at Hogwarts was glaring you down. It’s not your fault Sirius Black decided to turn over a new leaf and made you his primary objective; these girls need to stop making it seem like you forced Sirius to take amortentia.

But, from the circumstances, you might as well have given him the love potion. He follows you around and does whatever he can to get your attention, even if he makes a fool of himself. He goes out of his way to buy and give you your favourite treats from Honeydukes and helpfully does your bidding wherever, whenever. It would have been a nice gesture when he brought down books from higher shelves for you that one time…if only he didn’t immediately demand a kiss as ‘thanks’ right after. He deserved being hit upside the head for that.

You just want to be left alone so you wouldn’t have to worry about constantly being stared at by envious girls or gossiping teens who had nothing better to do with their time.

“My future wife then,” Sirius’s boyish grin grows wider the instant you roll your eyes at him and stomp away, figuring a different route for your journey to class would help you avoid the rebellious teen. But Sirius is unrelenting, following after you with a skip in his step.

“Stop following me, Sirius,” you groaned and quickened your pace but it was no use. His persistence is challenging and you eventually succumb to his irritable company.

“But I don’t want to, wifey,” he protests.

“Don’t call me that, and it doesn’t matter; I want you to leave me alone,‘ you counter.

“No,”

“Yes,”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Your bickering is commonplace in the hallways and within classes now, although it’s more a legitimate argument for you and Sirius is just playing along. It truly was a mystery to everyone why the Sirius Black, notorious fuckboy and ladies man was suddenly abandoning all that for one girl. Only he knew the real reason. And it was frustrating, especially to you. He can’t just change everything about his mannerisms and force all that attention on you, his good looks, fun personality and enchanting eyes could only absolve him so much. You’d rather be dead before you ever confess that to him, though, it’ll only worsen your situation.

You did have one saving grace, however. When classes were over, you could find peace and quiet down by the black lake, teetering on the borders of the forbidden forest. This was where you had met your year-long dearest friend, Snuffles. Injured and quivering from the cold, you nursed him back to health a year ago, abandoning your classes for the day so that you could make sure he got better. You knew that dogs weren’t allowed at Hogwarts so you didn’t want to risk anything by taking him to madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, his injuries weren’t too bad at the time and he just needed some company to care for him lovingly.

“Hello handsome,” you smile upon seeing the familiar black dog through the trees of the forest. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he bounds over with enthusiastic barks and happy tail wags, “I’m happy to see you too boy!” kneeling down, you hug him around his neck and press kisses into his soft fur, “How are we today, hm?” as if he could understand you, Snuffles barks and sits before laying down to rest his head in your lap.

Cooing at the large beast, you begin your usual pets as you delve into how your day was going, making small jokes and giving the occasional complaint over workload and stress build up. Snuffles gives a gentle whine as he paws at your thigh as if distressed over your worries and you smile warmly. He seems so human, someone that really cares about you and your wellbeing, it was nice to have.

“Thank you for worrying about me Snuffles,” you muse softly, “but I’m really okay…so long as Sirius Black stays the hell away from me,” you huff in annoyance. It’s only natural that the conversation directs itself to the man in question as he’s made himself a prominent part of your days for the last year, “ugh! He’s so infuriating,” you frown down at the black dog still resting in your lap, “he won’t leave me alone no matter how much I tell him to. He’s been doing it for a year now and I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Today, he actually called me his future wife! What’s that about?!” you groan and push your head back.

The sky is a pretty blue and you stare at it for a while before you continue, looking down when you feel a significant shift in Snuffles’s postion. The large black dog sits up and leans over to prop his head up on your shoulder and press his muzzle into your neck. He finds a sensitive spot and elicits a dulcet giggle from you, “if only he was as sweet and gentle as you, Snuffles,” you sigh, a small heat climbing up your neck and settling into your cheeks, “maybe then he could finally get me, just like he wants,” Snuffles pulls away and huffs, his version of a subtle sneeze.

“Excuse you,” you tease, reaching up to scratch at the fur on his neck before you cup his face and bring his nose close so you could boop it with your own.

“It’s a real shame, though,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around Snuffles’s neck once more and tucking your face into his fur, “his looks are exactly my type…” Snuffles stiffens under your embrace but you don’t notice, “and he has some good personality traits too…if only he wasn’t so irritating,” there was a stutter in Snuffles’s movement when you lean back and pet his head softly, “you know, he started acting strange like this after I met you, Snuffles…I-” it was just a passing thought but there was a sudden realisation that slowly consumes your features, reflecting primarily in your eyes. It doesn’t help that the large dog before you slowly morphs into the man you were just complaining about.

“Clever girl,” Sirius grins as he takes your chin in his fingers and pulls you in close, his breath ticking your lips as he continues to whisper, “I expect nothing less from my future wife,”

When he kisses you, sweet but amorously, you kiss back.

a/n : my first request! lets go! i hope i did it justice darling, and i hope everybody enjoyed the read!

navi. | more oneshots

taglist : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @rosaleenablack

#sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black #sirius black fic #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius orion black #padfoot #✉️ : request

3K notes · View notes

alottiegoingon · 11 months ago

Text

hc!friends to lovers

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

summary: going from friends to lovers with nat

warnings: golden retriever gf x black cat gf dynamic, nat is secretly a softie, drugs and mommy/daddy issues mentions, cursing, pure fluff, not proofread

𖧊 to this day, nat still has no idea on how you two became friends. you were too different

𖧊 it started with you complimenting her makeup once and she was so rude cause she thought you were making fun of her

𖧊 “your eyeliner is so pretty,” you tried to be nice just to receive a “fuck off” and a middle finger right to your face. you were flabbergasted! you were just trying to be nice to a pretty blonde girl and now you were her enemy?

𖧊 your huge smile disappeared in seconds and when nat realized you weren’t mocking her, she got desperate. “oh, shit. you were actually serious?”

𖧊 she was constantly being slutshamed and harassed by the mean students and the idea of being complimented by you didn’t even make it to her head

𖧊 you were too sweet for her taste. too smiley, too happy, too soft and too excited. her words, not mine. but damn, you were pretty

𖧊 not that she would ever tell you that, but being friends with you was better than spending her days alone or with the other two guys she had for friends but were nothing but drug buddies

𖧊 “dude, what the fuck is that?” she grunts at the second you show her one of your favorite songs by backstreet boys “it’s so cheesy!”

𖧊 you held her arms and made her dance with you and she was so embarrassed and tried to brush it off by complaining a lot but her eyes didn’t lie. she kinda enjoyed that

𖧊 then, late at night when she’s unable to sleep, she secretly listen to the too happy and annoying shit type of songs you liked just to think of you :(

𖧊 she eventually found herself enjoying the cranberries, spice girls and lots of your catchy pop or soft songs while doing chores and would never forgive herself for that

𖧊 at first, nat was easily annoyed by you. by your overwhelming enthusiasm and positivity and how you would always see the good in others even if they didn’t deserve

𖧊 however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t speak up for her. if anyone was caught talking shit about nat, you were always the first one to have her back. “excuse me? hi. that’s my friend you are talking about and you might wanna apologize to her right now!”

𖧊 bless your heart you really tried to be scary like her. at least the intention was there right

𖧊 “i don’t need you to defend me,” she was already snarling at you but you could see in her eyes that she didn’t mean that. she just didn’t like being vulnerable in front of others

𖧊 nat was tough, she could take care of herself. you knew that but you couldn’t let anyone be mean to her

𖧊 “i know, but i care about you!” “yeah, whatever 🙄🙂”

𖧊 and it worked the other way around as well. a single threatening glance of nat was enough to make anyone scared of even saying your name. yes, you were a pain in her ass but she was the only one who could say that

𖧊 “but you just said she was annoying,” her friend kevin defends himself from her scary look. “don’t call her that, asshole”

𖧊 nat couldn’t invite you over to her house trailer so you would usually hang out at your house or secret places she knew

𖧊 nat is a really lonely and independent person and that’s a consequence of her unstable childhood. running away from the mess she had for parents, she eventually discovered a nice small park with pretty trees around and thought it would be the perfect hiding spot

𖧊 smoking with nat? obviously a must. you would give her the old speech saying that it was terrible for her physical and mental health (🤓☝️) even if you were 100% sure that she wasn't listening and was just giving you ironic commments. "you don't say, princess"

𖧊 deep down, very deep down, she appreciated you

𖧊 “kevin told me he caught you listening to backstreet boys yesterday” you smile at her, watching her messy bleached hair cover half of her face as she smokes

𖧊 “fucking kevin,” she mutters under her breath and it’s the perfect opportunity to play around with her. “aren’t you gonna deny it? wow, you must really like me, nat”

𖧊 “shut up, princess.”

𖧊 it was meant to be ironic but since the first time she called you that, you two were sure that it was nothing but a caring nickname and you were a complete sucker for it

𖧊 spending time together became a casual thing and as essential as breathing. that didn’t go unnoticed

𖧊 showing up to support her on a game day or just practice, holding a big sign with her name written with gliter gel pens and smiley faces and cheering so loud that people near you had to cover their ears

𖧊 thanks to that, she was so flustered that couldn't focus on the actual game

𖧊 classically, the yellowjackets would always make fun of her when you were around but especially when you weren’t. “are you happy that your girlfriend came to see you today?” van teases nat and suddenly she became their favorite subject to talk about

𖧊 “she’s not my fucking girlfriend!” she flips them off and storms off to hide how unbelievably red her cheeks were

𖧊 nat didn't take long to realize she felt different about you. but her doing your eyeliner to match her after you insisted didn't help. it was pretty hard to mantain her toughness when you were lying in bed with her on top, straddling you with face so close that you could smell the blunt in her breath

𖧊 "thanks, nat. what do you think?" you ask when she's done

𖧊 "not bad. thanks to me, obviously," she acts casually but she's like 🧍🏼‍♀️😊😮‍💨😵 seeing you with her goth ass makeup

𖧊 being jealous of you near anyone who would say hi to you was also a clear sign

𖧊 going from friends to lovers with nat would be something hard for her at first. she isn't used to trusting people that much. loving someone? what was she thinking?!

𖧊 this means that she would definitely push you away, intentionally or not, and would act weird for days until you finally confronted her

𖧊 and she tries to be rude to make you leave but it doesn’t work. eventually she opens up about her feelings, shaking and at the verge of tears, and you hug her tightly

𖧊 “i like you too, nat”

𖧊 holds your chin when kissing you 😵‍💫

𖧊 jealous girlfriend that was always there to keep an eye on you but wouldn’t say the words “i’m jealous” even if her life depended on it

𖧊 dating nat meant her having part time jobs to save money for weeks just to buy you something nice for your birthday or to take you to a special place in a special occasion. you cried like a baby

𖧊 you were aware that she struggled with money and you weren't rich either, so you kept things discreet. you would come to her with a tape with lots of songs that reminded you of her, "nat, you won't believe what i made you!"

𖧊 “i have no idea, baby..." but she definitely did cause you would do that at least twice a month

𖧊 she would be the first one to say “i love you” accidentally and got so stressed trying to fix her mistake with a cough but you had heard her and was freaking out, smile from ear to ear

𖧊 “you’re a moron, i love you” it took her five seconds to go from 😁 to 😧

𖧊 “i love you too.”

𖧊 when it comes to affection, i feel like she would be hesitant at first, not knowing what to do. having sex with random people was really different from wanting to show her love for you, it was harder

𖧊 realistically, nat wouldn't be the touchy type. she never really experienced affection from her parents (at least not in a long time), so it would be something new, but wouldn't be opposed to it once she realized how comforting it felt

𖧊 100% touch starved. you stroke her cheek once and she's tearing up already

𖧊 pretends to be bothered but always melts completely when you kiss her and loves to hold hands and intertwine fingers

𖧊 not everything was perfect and sharing feelings wasn’t easy for her. either way, you were always there for her, listening to her talk about her shitty parents or just comforting her after a bad day

BONUS!!!

𖧊 if the iconic barbie movie was released in the 90s, you would BEG her to wear pink clothes to go to the movies together and she would deny it every single time

𖧊 “but it would be so cute! we would match 🥺” you insisted, knowing that she was so close to cave in

𖧊 “it’s gonna make me look stupid, i don’t wear pink. quit it, princess,” nat nods, convinced that you would eventually forget about it

𖧊 a week later, nat is found at the movie theater looking like a damn flamingo

𖧊 “what happened to you? met an unicorn on the way here?” shauna mocks her as soon as she sees the blondie wearing a bright pink suit and black boots, matching your same color dress

𖧊 “shut up,” she gives them her middle finger

𖧊 “happy wife, happy life,” tai murmurs and she just nods, defeated. shauna, tai and van, all in pink thanks to your incessant pleas, followed her to get the tickets while you and jackie were excitedly buying snacks and pink popcorn containers shaped like barbie’s car

𖧊 (she definitely cried at the end and you had to kiss her tears away)

#had a hard time making this not angsty #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio

955 notes · View notes

cressidagrey · 5 months ago

Text

It's a Love Story - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.

“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile.

Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"

Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.

Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.

Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.

Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.

Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females.

And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.

He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it.

Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp.

Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend.

It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better.

"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.

Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."

"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.

Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?

Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.

And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way.

"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off.

Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.

"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.

Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."

Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into.

Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all.

Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.

But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.

***

"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.

"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly.

"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.

"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.

Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.”

Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.

And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.

She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful

They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.

Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.

How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.

"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."

They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.

He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.

He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.

"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.

Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."

He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."

The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him

Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,” he admitted.

It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either.

Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.

Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.

He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.

The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.

"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.

Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."

"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.

"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."

"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.

"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.

He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.

Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.

For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.

She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.

"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.

Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.

"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."

Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.

*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*

Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further.

"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."

Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.

"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.

*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*

Sky blushed at the compliment.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."

"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.

Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.

"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."

Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her

"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently.

"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."

He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.

"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."

He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."

She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.

As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.

He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #It's a Love Story

508 notes · View notes

were-all-idjits-here · 3 months ago

Text

TFW Realizing You're Not Doing Well/Falling into Burnout Headcanons

Gender neutral reader Warnings: reader is struggling with mental health/burnout, but nothing is described other than that. A/N: Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. My masterlist can be found here. Enjoy!

Sam

Even though Sam isn’t as outspoken as his brother, he’s silently very attentive and protective of you. When you start acting off and have more low energy than you usually do at some times and are more explosive at others, he immediately takes notice.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your space if that’s what you need, but he won’t let you avoid everyone and try to muscle through it yourself out of fear of being a burden.

If you’re the type to throw yourself into hunting in an attempt to just have a one-track mind and numb everything else out, Sam does his best to intercept before you get to your boiling point.

He approaches you very gently, making sure you feel validated, understood, and appreciated and lets you know that, in his eyes, you’ve more than earned a break from everything. The hunting life is a lot and couple that with anything else you’ve got going on, it makes sense that it’s all overwhelming.

He suggests a trip, just you and him—or he’ll even help you plan and book and solo trip if you’d prefer—so you can decompress without worrying about anything.

Normally, the Winchesters don’t go for nicer hotels, but Sam insists you deserve to be pampered: free continental breakfast, a cleaning lady coming in daily, a laundry service—he’s even signed you up for this place’s special program that gets you discounts and extra perks (all under a fake name, of course).

At first, you’re worried about how the others will handle everything without you (or the two of you, if Sam goes with you), but Sam and the others assure you that they’re well-prepared, have plenty of other hunters on standby, and will call you if there’s a true emergency where they need your help.

Sam reassures you constantly that yes, this feeling will get better and to take as long of a break as you need. When you joke that you feel like you need a whole year at least, he says, “how about we start with a month?”

He’s of course also around to take care of anything that you don’t have the mental energy for right now—helping you make phone calls, talking to people, helping you make lists and plotting things out in order of importance when you’re overwhelmed, and is so ready to pamper you, it almost makes you happy cry.

When you come back from your trip, if you feel you need more decompression time, Sam is more than happy to let you just hang around Bobby’s house, the bunker, even hold the fort down in the motel room as you travel around with them and become the designated research person they call if you’re up for it.

He of course loves his research, so he’s searching up everything he can on burnout, mental health, what helps, hobbies that can relax you while also keeping your mind from drifting into dark thoughts, coping strategies, ways to best regulate with your mental illness or neurodivergence, etc. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so gently introduces these things one by one and will never shame you if his suggestion is something you’ve previously tried that didn’t work or just immediately puts a bad taste in your mouth.

Overall, he’s very vocal about being committed to doing whatever it takes to help you feel better and will always be there to remind you of things that have proven to help you, hand you medications or stim toys as needed, and help make sure you’re taken care of.

Dean

Although he’s a bit louder than his brother, Dean isn’t as in tune with or good at talking about emotions. But he can immediately clock that you’re not your usual self.

He hates when someone else tries to push him to talk before he’s ready, so takes a while to quietly observe from the background, doing little things here and there to make your life easier without saying anything.

You mentioned your side of the motel room is a mess and you’re dreading putting it back all nice and neat in your bag? Already done next time you step into the motel room—and your bag is even put back together the exact way you like it.

Need your comfort food? Oh, what a coincidence, Dean just happened to be heading towards a restaurant/shop/store that he knows has it and he’ll get a bunch for you.

Need a minute to just breathe mid-hunt? Well, he doesn’t know about you, but he’s really craving some caffeine and there was a nice, quiet coffee shop just down the street where you two can sit and look over the case details (of course, you don’t really look over anything once you’re there and he doesn’t push you to).

Eventually, the signs of you being constantly dysregulated and burned out are too much for even him to ignore. He’s a bit more blunt in his delivery than Sam, but echoes the same sentiments that you’ve had a lot to deal with recently and it’s understandable that you just need a break—from everyone and everything, and he has the perfect solution: a camping trip.

If you’ve never been camping, he’s happy to show you the ropes and insists that being surrounded by nature with no one around for miles will help reset anyone’s brain. Whether you go full-blown camper and stay in a tent or pick one of John or Bobby’s old hunting cabins for more amenities and plumbing is up to you. But you’re not gonna worry about a single thing the entire time: he’s got all planned out with Sam, Cas, and the other hunters in their inner circle where they’ll be okay without the two of you for a few weeks.

Although he’s not as verbally lovey and blurting as many verbal reassurances as his brother, you still find him doing things for you before you can even vocalize they need to be done, making you realize just how much he’s been paying attention to you, how you like things, what you have to do to feel comfortable, etc.

Whether it’s over an open campfire or a cabin cooktop, he’s also making you some of the best meals you’ve ever had, letting you suggest whatever you want. The menu is completely up to you.

He tries to stay upbeat for you and seems like he’s also excited to take a break too. Things like walking into the room, slapping and rubbing his hands together and saying, “so, what are we thinking for today?”

He also gets a little more touchy than usual during this time. I’m a big believe that Dean is a huge physical touch person and that’s his main form of communicating his love for you anyway: but now there are so many more massages, rubbing your arm, squeezing your hand, random kisses, and just doing whatever he can physically to make sure you’re good to go.

Similar to Sam, if you return from your trip and feel you still need some time, he’s happy to accommodate you in any way—no matter where you need to stay, how little you need to do, he’s got all of it handled.

He’s not the researcher his brother is, but we’ve seen him struggle before and I strongly feel he’s neurodivergent, so I feel he’d be really good at helping you navigate that and showing you things to calm you down based on his own experiences—especially if you’re the type that needs to just blow off some steam sometimes, like him. He’s more than happy to take you ax/knife throwing, spar with you, take you to the shooting range, etc.

He does throw in an occasional verbal “you’ve got this/you’re doing great,” but shows you much more with his actions—but makes sure his actions are still loud enough to translate loud and clear that you’re very, very loved.

Castiel

Depending on where Cas is in his journey, he’s still getting the hang of understanding humans, but he can clearly see you’re not acting like your usual self.

Being the blunt angel he is, he immediately starts asking you questions about it, trying to understand what’s going on and why. His delivery will be gentler the longer he’s a part of Team Free Will, but either way, you can tell he’s genuinely curious versus asking to try and shame you.

If explaining everything going on is too much for you to handle, Sam and Dean will gladly take over and explain human burnout/mental health issues to him.

Cas is at first very sad you’re having this experience and again, the brothers have to explain to him this isn’t something he can heal with his powers—which makes him even sadder and even more determined to help you.

He requests Sam’s help researching exactly how what you’re going through feels, what could help, and how to show someone you care. Sam gets him started, but he then continues researching on his own until he’s fairly certain he can at least empathize.

He may get it wrong a few times in the beginning, but always tries his best, bringing you little flowers and trinkets to brighten up your day at first before teaching himself some breathing techniques and coping strategies so he can then teach them to you.

If you need to go off somewhere, he of course offers to teleport you anywhere in the world you want to go. His suggestion is a remote Airbnb up in the mountains (he’s fascinated by how willing some of the bears are to get close to humans and even tries to have a conversation with one—then is scandalized when it tries to break into someone’s car to find food). Sometimes he disappears and reappears later with delicious takeout if you’re not up for cooking and is always ready and willing to help you with any chores that need to be done.

If you still need more time after your mountain trip, he’s constantly teleporting to visit you and always brings gifts with him. If stim toys help you, you suddenly have multiple boxes full of so many and have no idea where he got them all.

He eventually tries to clumsily confess to you that he just cares about you deeply and wants you to feel better and be happy again, and feels bad that he can’t just angel-power your pain away. He tells you how he thinks you’re an amazing, brilliant person that he feels so grateful to know and that you won’t always feel this way and deserve to feel better.

He’s a bit shy with physical touch, but will always reciprocate if you initiate.

He reiterates multiple times that he’s here for whatever you need. All you have to do is ask and he’ll be so happy to do/get it for you because to him, you’re his family.

159 notes · View notes

arsonlookers · 1 year ago

Text

Doctor's Obsession

Case No. 2 : Yan! Doctor Zhongli x Therapist Reader

Slight Suggestive please be warned

Yan! Doctor Zhongli is the first doctor you have befriended during your first month as a therapist. You have known him far longer than that. you have known him from your first college days, he is the most respected senior on campus and also the most elegant gentleman and genius upcoming doctor on the field. You only got to know him in your freshman year since he was already graduating that time so You only admire him from afar and nothing more.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli Who actually knows you, the very cute freshman who actually caught his attention all those years ago.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli Who has been supporting you silently and admiring you secretly from afar. [ of course, you didnt know that] He who just anonymously helps you through all your debts and even secretly gifts you here and there but not that obvious that it will catch your attention.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli Who actually is the one who recommended you in this asylum so that he will be able to get close to you. And he will be able to watch you 24/7. He now can touch you, stare at you for longer hours, and of course, he can watch who is interested in you and dispose of the said trash.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli messed up once because in your 4th year of college, you got a boyfriend, and he was furious about it. Of course not to you, but to that TRASH who keeps hanging out with you. Tainting you with his dirty hands, his sweet poor little angel, he is of course gonna save you.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who secretly slips something into your boyfriend's drink someday and your boyfriend suddenly needs to go to the hospital to get treated. HE who secretly kills your boyfriend and disguises it as a failed operation.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who meets you [secretly stalks you does not count] finally for the first time and tells you about your boyfriend's progress in health how severe it is and how dangerous his condition is. And even comforted you when you got the sad news of your now-dead boyfriend.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli since then he Occasionally asks you out for tea and even asks you about your personal life.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli is happy to become a friend of yours and it will develop more and more as he will make sure of that.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli When watching you interact with some patients, who become too touchy with you, he keeps an eye on them for your sake. And after that tells you the bad news about their death. [Rip dead patients]

Yan! Doctor Zhongli actually keeps a laboratory hidden behind the walls so that you won't be able to see how gruesome it is. How he tortures those patients because you interact with them more than you interact with him.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli sees you as an angel and even a goddess because of how he worships you secretly. And to those you will taint you may they be innocent or criminal he will sure put them to judgment and persecute them for they are filthy.. no they are not deserving of your love and attention at all. ONLY he is.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who keeps a hidden room in his house full of your pictures since your freshman years. all SECRETLY taken without any of your consent.

Suggestive content

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who gets turned on whenever you are so close to him. as he smells how sweet and enchanting your perfume is and how good you look close up. how he will never stop eye fucking you in his mind all day long.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli He who jerks off on your pictures and he even has you naked in some of it [of course you will never know about that]

"hnngg~ y/n~ ahhhh~ ngg~ you~ lookngg ahhh~~ so sexy~ my darling~~ "

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who loves it when you sit on his lap and he will surely drag it in his mind for days on end.

"Just ~ ehhahhhh~~ sit ~ gnnn~ how good~ would-ahhh~~ you~ feel-~ like~ nggg~"

Yan! Doctor Zhongli REAAALLLYY LOVES your curves secretly and even would loves to be suffocated by them. Who will surely shamelessly beg if he has to.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli is Jealous whenever you interact with patient 001 because he knows how insane Childe is. He will never stop pestering threatening Childe to stop his obsession with you.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli Who is mad when patient 001 starts to become more and more bold and even shamelessly masturbating infront of you in his cell. of course Yan! Doctor Zhongli knows about it since he watches through the camera of his cell. to make sure you are safe but now he will surely dispose of Childe for good.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who starts to notice how other patients are also acting strangely affectionate to you..and he DOES NOT like it.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli Who will start to isolate you from other doctors and even patients. even though you act against it since he is your higher-up supervisor you have no choice but to follow.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli will keep you by his side, inside his office, and will not let you meet other patients or even to other doctors.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who will make you his secretary rather than a therapist to filthy people.

"why not be my personal therapist y/n?" he asked

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who starts to act strange around you and even affectionate at times. And when no end he will also start to show his possessiveness and affection obsession to wards you.

Yan! Doctor Zhongli who locks you up in his office and even has a secret built-in chain on his office just for you and only you to use.

" You will be safe here darling~ don't worry as long as you are here by my side nobody will get hurt~ As long as you are here by my side I will love you forever and spoil you "

you are trying to break of the chain

"Darling dont do that you will hurt yourself" Zhongli sweetly tells you like an adult telling a child that sweets are bad for your teeth.

You glare harder, trying to be intimidating but sadly Zhongli only sees it cute and lovely how you intently stare and observe him.

"darling~ dont make me use drugs to make you pass out~" he brushes his hands on your cheeks grabs it by the side and makes you look deep in eyes.

With his threat, you stop squirming out of him and just fearfully stare at his deep golden eyes. all you can do is nod your head.

"good girl~ such a Good girl for me~ " he kisses your right cheek

"dont worry now darling I'm sure you are going to love it here, forever and ever. I will make sure of it. You will love it here in your new home and with your new husband and we will have children~ how many would you like? this daddy will provide for you darling~"

"So would you please follow orders from your one and only trusted doctor please~? "

Darling why don't you stay~ you have nowhere to go, after all, don't worry he will take care of you, spoil you, make you his and so full of his children.

He will take care of you Darling~ dont worry about anything at all, just think about him and only him after all, he has been waiting for the longest time for this .. FOR YOU to be His and only HIS.

suggestive content

After he takes control of you and chains you to his side forever be reminded that day after day, night after night you will be nothing but exhausted and tired from all his pounding again and again and again. non-stop because he truly has been waiting and dreaming for you to be in front of him stripped and all on show for his eyes to see and to love be in his mercy as you kept begging him about how overstimulated everything is. after all, he likes it when you are acting like a whore in front of him and cock drunk from all he has given for you. BUT he won't stop until he is satisfied and sees everything is in place. an image of you so full of his cum and looks so tasty and hmm~ fuck up~ by him~ don't worry darling he will truly love you and he will enjoy his meal after all his waiting~ so please let him have his meal [you] will you darling~

Ars : I give thanks to people who likes my last post Ms. therapist and my new upcoming ideas about yandere childe and yandere adventurine! I was really shock about reaching 200+ likes THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! and to my new Followers thank you for following! it really means everything to me and to people who reblogs my post THANK YOU VERY MUCH!! For more update this yandere genshin x therapist reader will hopefully be a long project for me since I truly have plenty of ideas in my pocket. if you like to keep following on the updates I have a separate post master list for it named ASYLUM PROJECT

THANK YOU VERY MUCH! YOU ALL MADE ME CRY!!! 😭

454 notes · View notes