#self h@rm reader

[yellowroseswrites]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a fic about Spencer Reid x sh/ed reader. The reader is very insecure because she feels like she used to be smart but isn't anymore and maybe after failing a case she starts harming herself again.

I was also wondering if you could include

that she wears a watch all the time

that she tends to cut small cuts on her fingers because she can blame them on other things and often digs her nails into them when anxious

has a good relationship with family so she feels her actions are unjustified

Spencer and reader are friends but shes always thought of him as more

I totally understand if this isn't possible and thank you.

"I want to help you carry it."

Spencer Reid x Sh!BAU!Reader

Author's notes- [ “has a good relationship with her family so she feels her actions are unjustified’ called me out personally and i need emotional compensation /j. Sorry these pieces have taken so long, a lot of my requests have been sh related and i wasn’t in the right headspace until recently, i hope you understand and i hope you enjoy this piece <3 also this is taken quite far from the prompt, so i’m sorry about that. I’ll definitely try to write more with reid and sh reader, so i’ll try to follow the request a bit more closely next time]

TW- {Self harm mentions, not super graphic, but it is a bit detailed, mentions of kidnapping and su!c!de (briefly), Eating habits mentioned, but not detailed at all, disassociation scenes, 2 of them i think, use of y/n}

1.2k words, enjoy

You looked down at your watch, watching the second hand tick all the way around the circle, desperately trying not to look up. If you looked up, all you would see is the dissapointed face of your best friend, Spencer.

You were sat on a stool near his kitchen counter. Usually if you were sitting here, there would be laughter and smiles, maybe pizza or some freshly baked cupcakes, but this was different. You only ever saw Reid like this once, when he sat you down to talk to you about your eating habits. You swore you would never do anything that would make him that upset again. You never wanted him to worry about you. He had enough on his plate, you would only be a burden. And yet, here you are.

You thought you were hiding it well, to be honest you really were. You never let anything slip, not a wince, not a complain, nothing. No one knew a thing, until today.

You were finishing a case, a rough one if you’re being honest. There was a young girl, one with scars everywhere, self inflicted. Everyone thought she had killed herself, except you and Reid. You both fought hard to find the girl. The team did end up finding her, she was trapped in some freaks attic. The case was closed, she was found, it was fine. You told yourself it was fine, you did your best to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you. It wasn’t until you were filling out your case reports that you finally let yourself dwell on it. You could hear Derek’s voice so clearly in your head, “Is it possible that she took her own life? It’s clear she has suicidal tendencies.” Even after JJ and Hotch explained the complexities of non-suicidal self injury, his words still rang in your head. You dont even know why it bothered you. I wasn’t judgmental, it wasn’t disrespectful, it wasn’t even a bad theory, but it rattled you. It’s like you could perfectly imagine them talking about you like that, like you were nothing but your habits. You knew that wasn’t how Morgan meant it, he was doing his job, you would do the same for any other case, but this one just stung.

As you thought about it, you faded into your mind. It’s like you weren’t even there at your desk, you were inside your head. Your nails found there way to your other hands knuckles. You were good at hiding the marks, and it was easy to lie about them. They were your hands, anyone would believe that you just knicked them, or got them stuck in your car door, or that your neighbors cat was a playful fella, or the countless other excuses you had saved in your resevoir. You never hurt youself in public, or when people could catch you, except today apperently. Your finger was red and bleeding by the time you snapped out of your haze. Or rather, was rudely dragged out of our haze by Spencer. You blinked a few times as you focused on him and what he was saying.

“Y/n stop that.” His hands were on yours. You were frozen for a second, your mind almost buffering, before the reality of that moment actually dawned on you. Without speaking a word you pulled your hands back and stoop up from your desk.

You grabbed your bag, sliding your unfinished report into your desk drawer, before beginning to walk off, “Good work Spence, I’ll see you tommorow.” You made your way to the elevator, ttrying to avoid the obvious footsteps following you. He put his hand on your shoulder as you made your way out of the building, gently guiding you to his car. You didn’t fight it, you knew you couldn’t, and you would really rather not make a scene in your work parking lot. You listened to the hum of his car air conditioner as he drove the all familiar route to his appartment. 

That’s how you ended up here. A few warm tears falling down your cheeks while Spencer silently stares at your shrunken figure. He was trying to find the words that he wanted to say, which was never a good thing. He was the Spencer Reid, he always knew what to say. 

He finally cleared his throat, after what felt like ages, “Non-suicidal self injury is a habitual addiction, but it’s possible to recover from it. You just have to tell someone about it, that’s step one. That’s always been step one. We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Spence. I’m sorry.” Your voice was small. You felt small compared to your all knowing best friend. You knew everything there was to know about self harm, sometimes it was the only thing you wanted to read about or learn about, sometimes you felt like it was the only thing you knew about,  but you knew this was how Reid helped, so you tried to stay calm as you let him tell you everything that you already had memorized. 

“We’re friends y/n, you can talk to me.”

You huffed at that, mumbling a small, “Yea friends.”

“You’re deflecting.” He sounded softer, you hurt him. You were deflecting, and now you feel worse than you did before. You hated this, you wanted to go home and relive this day. Your nails started to sink into the skin on your thigh.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Great, Spencer saw. Spencer knows. Spencers going to think your insane, he’s going to talk about you like your a victim. He’s going to talk to you like a baby and look at you like your bleeding out in front of him. He’s never going to think about you the way you think of him, your just some charity case for him. He doesn’t -

His hand grabs yours, taking it away from your leg. Before your brain can catch up with you, your arms are wrapped around him, pressing your face into his torso. Your tears are falling more freely now. You feel his hands run through your hair and rub against your back. You never feel more safe than you do when your in his arms, your thoughts can’t catch you here. 

You aren’t sure how long you stay like that before you gently pull away from him. You sit patiently as he examines your hands. You can see the hurt in his eyes, you do your best to ignore it. 

“I love you, y/n. I don’t want you to do this to youself. You can get help for this. You can talk to me about it if you need to.” He was soft, but not condescending. You could feel yourself melt, as though you needed another reason to love him.

“I can’t do that, I’ll just be a burden. This isn’t your baggage to carry.” You started to pull away again.

“It’s still your baggage, I just want to help you carry it. Let me help you, please.” His voice pulled you right back in.

You wiped the remaining tears from your face, “Okay Spence.” He sighed in relief, taking your hands and leading you to the couch. You both sat, you resting your head against his chest. You didn’t have to talk about it now. You knew you would eventually, but that's another thing about Spencer, you felt comfortable. You didn’t feel anxious about the impending conversations to be had, you weren’t stressing about him watching you or knowing your secrets, you simply felt safe. That was enough for now.

#yellowroseswrites #comfort fics #x reader #x reader fic #self h@rm #self harm fic #sh!reader #self h@rm reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reider #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #tw #spencer reid comfort

[bluebusstop]

Platonic! Bucky Barnes x Any gender! Reader

❗❗❗❗TW self-harm❗❗❗❗

Also parental issues, self-esteem problems

You have to admit this unpleasant fact: anxiety chases you wherever you go and whatever you do. It had crawled under your skin so long ago that you don't quite remember the day when it started. Maybe when that little boy with bright smile and modern toys grunted " it seems like you took your clothes out from dumpster"; or maybe when teacher's lips quirked in a mirror reflection of a smile and they said that "you speak too much". Or maybe this twisted feeling in your lungs that appears every time you spend a few hours with Natasha or Tony at the highest floors of Avengers Tower is just conscience? You don't belong here and your miserable little heart understands it more than ever when Clint unblocks the phone to answer his wife's call. They have their families, their friends who they know for a years and at the end, who are you for them? Just a shy friend of Peter: always in baggy clothes, with long striped gloves like it's 2007 again and old black converses, that have seen the crisis of 2008. A friend of Peter, Peter who can fly higher than some birds, Peter who can lift a car with bare hands, Peter with perfect grades in all subjects, Peter with genuine smile and good temper.

Maybe you're a little bit jealous, but to admit it is the same thing as finally confess you're a bad person.

Peter's got superpower. Peter's got cool supportive aunt and life full of risk. He actually does a lot for people around him and strangers - he's a person society needs. Someday he will be standing in a line under the spotlights with the greatest of the greatest (he's already almost avenger, and he's 16!) and you always be a person around the corner in the shades, not even the "guy in the chair". Peter is great, he's sweet and attentive friend but everything was so much easier when he was just Peter Parker, your best friend from school and the nerd next seat (not Spider-Man who saves people and works with real superheroes).

And now you have to deal with strange butterflies when it comes to every member of Avengers, from Bruce to Bucky. Especially Bucky. You felt those butterflies flying high, up to your throat that you couldn't talk when Steve ruffled your hair. You felt birds chirping inside your stomach when Bruce agreed to help you with your chemistry experiment. You felt like falling down when Bucky laughed: "You beat me here, kid". And you think you knew what was all these winces and red cheeks about but again - to admit it you had to confess that you're weak.

Bucky was a man from the past, quite guy who was sitting in the background and listening to others speaking. Until he got used that this life is actually his. No mission, no target. It seems like another month passed on when James Barns started adding comments and even making good old puns. It's not like they invited you on every meeting - something you overheard (yes, it's bad...but cmon, it's avengers themselves!), something you found out from Peter's rambling.

He was treating you extremely carefully from the first day. You knew that he tried to learn how to socialize and be actually nice, but...maybe it's dumb, but still it felt in a special way. He showed you a few useful stances when he saw your struggle in repeating after character from the movie and never ever raised his voice on you. His hugs were the heedfulest - no-one ever hugged you like this.

You would love to be his relative, somehow. Maybe then you would spend hours and days together and you wouldn't feel guilty; maybe he could teach you how to waltz or pick you up from school on his bike (and all of your classmates would gasp and gossip: "who's this attractive man? Do you know him? Is it your brother? Does he has a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?")

But all of these nice scenarios were only a dreams in your little silly head, as you thought, carefully wiping the blade with antiseptic. Today Peter was upset and desperately trying to hide his feelings as deep as possible. But after long assuring talk with Ned, MJ and you he was ready to sing.

"I heard Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers debate about me," he murmured, "well, about us all, actually"

In that particular moment your heart split into two halves .

"Speak, dumbass" - MJ insisted, her eyebrows creased together. She also spend at least one day in a few weeks in Tower and obviously wasn't happy to hear news that may guarantee her never ever appearing there again.

"Their missions are getting more dangerous. Mr. Rogers said that it would be better for me to...keep doing what I used to do. Just be a nice neighbor Spider-Man. And that it would be better for all of us...to come less often" - there were no life in boy's voice.

Little space of their own in the middle of canteen had become deadly silent. You could hear your poor heart trying to escape it's ribs prison. Ned was looking at Peter with big Bambi eyes, filled with hope.

"You said they were confronting, and that means..."

"Yes, Mr. Stark was harsh at the beginning. But...they think I'm a child. They think..." miserably squished out of himself Peter.

"Legally we all are children," sighed MJ, "but I'm not sure if children are able to save 50 people a day and still manage to keep good grades"

And you all fastly nodded. God, you were so disappointed. Maybe they haven't told you officially yet, but you heard what they really think. Well, Peter heard. But he's trustful, right?

And yes, you wanted some of the things to go back, but...but Bucky and Natasha could have stayed for a longer in your life. And Steve. And Clint. Bruce also.

Thin blade left the red track on your forearm. Nobody needs to know. This is just your relief. Your punishment. Because if you already dropped on yourself and you learned your lesson it's no need for-

You hissed. This one was too deep. Shit. But okay, Chlorhexidine solves all the problems... Disinfector stings.

And when Peter excitingly screams about invitation to Tower the day after all you get is anxiety. Clothes rubbed unhealed wounds and scratches. Earlier you wanted to return home to lock yourself in a room for the rest of the evening, reading and preparing for the test but you couldn't refuse. Maybe it will be the last time when you see Bucky at all.

Peter, Ned, MJ and you arrived at the Tower on peens and needles, expecting dead silence and heavy atmosphere but instead of pokerfaces and "we need to talk", you saw Tony with a pan in a fire.

"Okkay kiddos no homemade anything today. FRIDAY, order pizza for all of us" Tony had washed his hands for a thousand times.

"Seven or eight boxes?" busily inquired AI.

Tony took a look for all the Avengers and kids. His eyes stopped at blushing Ned.

"Twelve"

The room filled with babbling again. You don't know about others, but i felt like a mountain sized stone fell from your shoulders.

Just a usual evening with the mightiest heroes of planet earth (Thor had to solve some questions in Asgard). Telling stories, playing Monopoly (god, how you hated this game, Tony always won!) and Xbox and teaching Steve how to use joystick (finally, he had avoided this for a few months).

You tried not to get included into pillow fights. To be honest, you didn't really want to move at all.

What concerned you that Bucky stared at you for the whole evening with a strange, wistful gaze. You were feeling uncomfortable also from knowledge that if he wanted to observe you, you wouldn't even had noticed you. But Barns wanted to let you know that he has something to say. Well, okay, let it be.

"Second batch of pizza arrived! Who knew that Parker eats more that all of us together," announced Tony with a clap, "I need someone to pick it up and...I need this someone not to be me".

"I will"

Yeah, of course, Bucky volunteered, you thought. Here starts the game.

"I'll help him" You added, rising from the chair.

You felt with your back - Natasha's watching you. It meant that she leaves it up to you were put down in "checkout list".

When you and Bucky got inside the elevator and doors slowly closed silence fell on little space and pressed hard. You threw the man a quick glance. Like carved out of stone...

"Is something wrong? I'm sure you're able of delivering pizza upstairs on your own" you tried to begin a conversation.

Barns was drilling the closed doors in front of him with eyes.

"I'm not sure what is going on with you" ex-soldier slowly turned his head. Behind deep ice eyes was hidden something you couldn't understand, "Once or twice a week you move slower. Also in that days you actually careful with hugs and you don't like when Thor squeezes you tight. I mean, who likes," a bit confused and you snorted, "but the rest of the days you seem okay with it".

You can feel cold sweat running down your spine along with a goosebumps. You take a quick glance at the changing numbers on the screen. Almost 15th floor.

"Something is going on," he continues, staring with his deep blue eyes, "You can't deny it. And today especially. I thought of a physical injury but it's happens to often to be a fight and you never had any noticeable wounds on your face and usually bullies-"

"Stop"

He slowly closed his mouth.

"You don't have to tell me all your logical chain, you know?" Weak laugh. Your hands started to shake.

Bucky pursed his lips.

"FRIDAY helped me with it," reluctantly answered unasked question, "I just never-"

Elevator slowly stopped and the doors opened.

You swiftly made your way to the backdoor exit. Barnes followed you as a inconspicuous shadow.

The pizza boy awkwardly muttered something about price with wide opened eyes and shoved at least 6 boxes right in your hands. You smiled as nicely as you could in that condition and thanked. The rest of the dialogue was covered with fog for you, even more, you felt like put in the depth of ocean. You woke up only after Barns's hand slightly touched your shoulder.

"You good?" He asked with care.

You stared at him with a wet tired eyes.

"I know how hard it can be - when you feel guilt pressing down," he slowly said, eyes looking forward, " And I'm not going to tell Tony or even Steve. But you have to do one thing for me."

You felt relieved for a second, but then anxiety had risen even harder.

"I will train you. If it's about anger, I can help you. If it's something else - we will figure it out," he said bluntly, "But if your self-harm gets worse I would have to tell Tony".

Your heart gladly went up and down like a child on a rollercoaster. You gulped. Tony doesn't have to know...he will look at you even worse...he has already a brilliant student - Peter, and how do you look, standing next to him? Right, pathetic.

You heavily raised you head, leaning to the side and releasing your hand.

"Deal" your voice was trembling.

Barns nodded and firmly shook your hand.

"Deal" he confirmed.

Pile of pizza neatly landed on the floor. Elevator quietly squeaked and the doors slowly opened.

"Shit" you sighed.

#marvel #the avengers #bucky x you #bucky x reader #platonic avengers #mcu fanfiction #genderless reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes #peter parker #self h@rm #self h@rm reader #platonic bucky barnes x self h@rm reader

[hellish-sunsets]

Curses and Blessings - Chapter 1

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9

Summary:

When they found two souls who worked the best together, who would uplift each other to good, they would grasp those two souls at the moment of their birth. This touch would leave behind a mark, each mark varied and unique.

Was this supposed to be a blessing or a curse?

Word Count: 1420

Warning: self harm, self hate, depression

Read on AO3

(set up, baby!)

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

When she was little, Charlie went to her father whenever she got the chance to hear him tell a story. Her mother would often tell her no, that he was too busy with important work, but if she managed to sneak away, sometimes she could get him to tell her stories. 

Her favorite was about the marks. 

He would say that once, a very very long time ago, the angels looked down upon humanity and saw their struggles. Sin had taken hold of them leading them astray and causing them to get lost. They worried and they fussed and they discussed, until finally they reached a decision. They could not interfere themselves. Now that humanity had the choice, they had to choose to be good themselves. But perhaps, if they had someone else who could help make them better, happier people, that would help.

So, they made a creature, not an angel and not a demon, with no wings for them to fly away and no eyes to see what was happening around them in the present. They took their creation to a room made just for them on top of the tallest tower in heaven, far away from anything and everything, away from the most holy of places and the most evil. They sealed the creature in, and left them for eternity.

So, they started their work. 

With the powers granted to them, they outstretched their hands, and in an instant they saw all the minds of all humanity. In a moment, they knew everyone’s thoughts and hearts. When they found two souls who worked the best together, who would uplift each other to good, they would grasp those two souls at the moment of their birth. This touch would leave behind a mark, each mark varied and unique. Some resembled pictures, others were just a swirl of color and lines, and only those two souls would match each other. 

At first, only humans received these soul marks. It made sense, they were the ones the angels deemed in need of this gift. But isolation leads one to thinking. They wondered why humanity were the only ones to receive such a gift. They knew that, locked away in their empty room in this tower so far away from existence, they knew no one could stop them. So, with a slight twist of their lips, if they did have any, they looked further. 

It wasn’t known who had the first soul mark outside of humanity, whether angel or demon, but it was made clear rather quickly that those naturally born in those realms would also be allowed this gift, though not quite as common. 

“And that is how we all got our marks.” Lucifer told Charlie with a loving smile, cradling the girl in his protective embrace. And every time, she would look up at him with those beautiful, big eyes of hers, full of so much wonder and innocence. He hoped it would never fade. She would giggle with excitement and look at her own mark, a swirl of color on her inner arm. She swore since she was young that it looked like two birds flying together, but he couldn’t see it. Not that it mattered much as long as she was happy. 

“I bet they’re the best person ever! I can’t wait to meet them!” She happily babbled on, and he hummed in agreement, resting his chin on top of her soft hair and returning to the scattered papers on his desk, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper mixing with the sound of his daughters happy chatter. His chest swelled with a never ending fountain of love. 

It was a memory he went back to often as the years turned harsh and empty. In the moments when he felt just as isolated as that poor creature he told Charlie stories about so long ago. In the deadest moments of the night, when it was just him curled up in his far-too-large bed, he sank into those warm memories like a comforting embrace. But it hurt just as much as helped, a reminder of what he had lost and, he believed in his darkest moments, what he would never have again. 

Some nights he would glare at his own mark with red, tear filled eyes. Other nights, it was with a deep longing, the faintest of hopes he knew was pointless and painful. 

When the marks had started appearing so long ago, they appeared only on humans who were just born. Even when the shift happened, it still only appeared with the birth of the demon or angel. Those few who existed before the marks first appeared simply did not get one. For whatever reason, you had to be born with it. 

But Lucifer was not born with his. The only one to just have it appear, as far as he knew. He remembered little about when it happened, but he could vividly recall the sight of when it formed. It was a burst of color, like golden ink sliding up his arm from his wrist and dancing across the pale skin of his arm. He remembered the awe, the confusion, the anxiety, as those golden lines sank into his skin and settled into an array of gold, orange, and pink, like a sunset. It was beautiful, and terrifying. That was when he started wearing the gloves. It was several days before they got the news from heaven about the marks appearing on non-humans.

Of course, he couldn’t hide it from Lillith forever. At the time he thought they had worked through it. He was adamant they could still love eachother deeply despite this mark. The likelihood of him even ever meating whoever this person was was next to impossible. She had his whole heart, his everything. And she seemed to accept it. 

But when she left so many, many years later, that mark, that damned mark, was at the top of her list of reasons. She could only spit out that she was clearly not meant for him as stormed out with Charlie in her arms, his little girl, his world, staring back at him with wide, fear filled eyes. 

And then they were just,,, gone.

He never thought much of the mark until then, his claws digging into the tainted skin as he sobbed and wailed through the night, begging to that being in that damned tower to take it away, to bring back his family. What was the point of it, of any of this?

Was this supposed to be a blessing or a curse? Everyone else considered it a blessing, a promise that someone was out there for them, a hope that they could one day find their better half. 

But there was no such thing for him. He had love, he had a wife, he had his daughter, everything he could ever want. All this damned mark did was take that from him, ruin his life. He was sure it was punishment for his disobedience. He deserved it after he cursed humanity to sin and evil. He didn’t deserve happiness, didn’t deserve love

Still, he couldn’t stop the anger that bubbled up as he sat alone in bed, glaring at the sunset of colors. The finger that was absentmindedly tracing the lines of color flexed, claw digging into his skin, a line of blood falling from the puncture and dripping onto the white sheets. His face twisted, a mix of fury and pain as he sank all five claws into his arms, tearing, Tears streamed down his face as a sob tore through his lungs. The sheets were stained in gold once more, and he almost felt sorry for the cleaning staff. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he keep himself together for fucking once in his life? 

He knew he was spiraling, but he couldn’t stop. It was only what he deserved, the pain, the injury. Eventually he collapsed onto the mattress, sobbing and gasping, staring at the mess that once was his arm. At least the mark was gone. And yet, he knew it would be back by morning. The damage would heal over and the mark would remain, the reminder of all his failings and downfalls, a reminder of just how worthless and undeserving he was of anything but pain and loneliness and disappointment. 

The bloodloss forced a heaviness on his body and his eyes slid closed, sleep finally taking him into a realm of emptiness.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel reader insert #self h@rm #soulmate au #curses and blessings #hazbin hotel soulmate au #reader insert oc #hazbin lucifer x oc #hazbin hotel lucifer x oc

[archivomeow]

scars of the past.

worldwide issues || read on ao3 || writing masterlist

a/n: please read the warnings on this one! also i’m thinking about making this couple parts, so we’ll see.

description; you’re the new addition to the BAU team, after Derek Morgan left, Reid and Penelope hate your guts, but when you and Reid get paired up to visit the coroner’s office together he learns something about you, something you wanted to keep a secret and it changes the dynamic between the two od you.

warnings; mention of scars, sh, razor blades, swearing.

— THIS WORK IS NOT PROOFREAD!!

You were new to the team, when Agent Morgan left a spot opened and you got it, the excitement you felt was indescribable, you wanted this job forever and now it was your chance to become a profiler, to help the FBI, to meet other profilers. Your first day was rough, you were late and no one really talked with you except Emily, but you just shook it off as them being focused on the case, later on Jennifer also started to talk with you, you felt more comfortable knowing the two a little bit made you feel less alone and alienated.

The days passed fast and you had to admit the job wasn’t turning out how you imagined. You obviously were profiling, that part lived up to your, for a lack of better word, expectations. However the team wasn’t. You made two connections, you couldn’t even call that friendship. Jennifer and Emily tolerated you, they respected you and treated you with kindness, but the rest of the team was not a fan of you. Spencer always had an attitude when it came to you, as far as you noticed he gave it to no one else and no one defended you, except that one time where Emily had to stop him, because he was going too far.

Penelope treated you like air, like you didn’t exist and if she had to acknowledge your existence she did it as fast as she could, just so she can go back to pretending you don’t exist. It was crushing you. Every time you had to talk with Garcia or Reid the knot in your stomach tightened, it was there present all day long at work, but it was the worse when it came to those two. You knew there was another open spot for the BAU, that still remained empty and you wondered if another person would have to deal with this shit to and your heart just broke for them.

Since you joined the team you have solved one case so far, the way back on the jet was peaceful, everyone was exhausted and you just couldn’t wait to go home. Going home was your favourite time, drinking a glass of wine, catching up with your pet, watching TV, quite literally anything that would shift your focus from the terrible anxiety you were feeling, every fucking day at work.

Next day at work it shocked you to see more people around the table, you weren’t that surprised to see David Rossi, he took a time off because he got hurt during a mission, before you joined the BAU and you haven’t had the pleasure to meet him yet, but the other woman you didn’t recognise.

“Okay, so everyone is here. This Doctor Tara Lewis, she will be joining us on this case, alongside Rossi.” As Emily spoke, you glanced at Tara and smiled lightly as she looked at you, you felt at ease when she returned the smile.

On the other hand you ignored Reid, you could feel his eyes on you again, drilling a hole in your head.

You fucking hated this job.

The jet ride is always calm, not this time. David called shots this time and unknowingly of the situation put you with Reid, he wanted to protest, but David shut it down so he just glanced annoyed at you.

“What’s up with that?” Tara whispered to you, the two of you talked more, she noticed how disconnected you were from the team and when Emily mentioned you joined recently she felt at ease, knowing she wasn’t the only “outcast”.

“Great question, wish I knew…” You shrugged, you really didn’t know why Reid disliked you, but the problem was not on your end.

You and Reid were headed to the coroner’s office, to examine the victims bodies. The ride there was quiet, you didn’t know what to say and he said nothing.

You listened to his observations about the wounds, the two of you examined the body. What stood out to you were the scars on the women’s arms, you knew those very very well, you had the same ones on your shoulder. It was warm, but as long as you could you wore long sleeves, so only you knew for now.

“Hm.. Those scars, are they fresh? Was it a knife or another weapon?” Reid looked up at the coroner, but before he could speak you answered his question.

“Razor blade.” You just stated, but the silence made you glance both at Reid and at the coroner. “Um… Those are razor blade scars… They’re deep, but still narrow, a knife could do it, but probably not with this much precision.”

Reid looked back at the coroner and the man just nodded.

“Yeah, your partner here is right. These are most likely from razor blades, those scars are about a month old, most likely not connected to the UnSub, but both women had similar scars in different stages of healing.”

You two left in silence, but the ride back was not silent. You jumped up when he spoke at first, no radio and a quiet street combined with his speaking out of nowhere scared you.

“Sorry, what did you say?” You cleared your throat, he was focused on the road, very focused, his eyebrows were frowned and his brown eyes looking ahead as he repeated what he said before.

“I asked about what you said at the coroner’s office. The razor blades.”

You frowned, that was not the hole you wanted to dig under yourself. “What about them?”

“How did you know so fast?”

He knew? Did he? He was a genius, but you weren’t sure, that didn’t stop your mind from racing with no proof. Can you lie to a profiler?

Your chest started to feel heavy, an imaginary pressure was applied to it, your lungs were heavy as if filled with sand, you could feel how your heart sped up and how the temperature of your body rose up.

“I- um… I just did…” You managed to mumble out, fucking anxiety, you were a terrible liar, even worse under pressure.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you prayed he let the topic go.

“You clean now?” He glanced at you and back at the road.

That question made you want to jump out of the moving car, that was in fact not his business and you truly didn’t want the team to know, what’s in the past is meant to stay there. You didn’t know what to say to that, you opted on being a bitch untill he drops the topic.

“That is so not your fucking business… And who even said I- I did that.” You scoffed looking out the window.

You’re okay… You’re okay…

You kept repeating in your head that fucking phrase, but you were in fact not okay.

“Well, you do wear long sleeves always and in this weather you must be hot… Your eyes immediately focused on the scars at the coroner’s office… You knew the blade, you can know everything in theory, but you were sure of it… You pretty much told on yourself….But if it’s not you, then it’s someone close to you.”

Fucking profilers.

“Just focus on the road.” You said firmly, you did tell on yourself, especially when you claimed it was “none of his business”. That didn’t matter now, you couldn’t say anything to go back. He was right, but you didn’t want him to know, not him, not anyone. It was definitely too late now.

#criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #angst #hurt no comfort #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #tw sh related #tw sh implied #tw sh mention #self h@rm

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

hii can u please write an emily x reader fic where emily sees readers sh scars for the first time? and kisses them or smt? if not don’t worry :))

Of course! :) Thanks so much for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Tracing You

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: past self-harm, mental illness, trauma, implied sexual assault/abuse (nothing graphic though!), mentions of afab body parts, discussions of sex Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: You and Emily have been dating for over a month, and you've still haven't let her get to second base. You're scared she'll see your self-harm scars and run for the hills. But, eventually, you'll have to expose them.

You knew it was coming. You always knew, and you always hated it, hated to cut everything short.

Emily was kissing you hard, passionately, as you both lounged on her couch, and you kissed her back. The movie you’d started earlier was long-forgotten. You loved kissing Emily. You could kiss her forever. You loved the way she pushed her body into yours until she was nearly on top of you, as if she physically couldn’t stand to be apart from you–even one centimeter apart. You loved the way she snuck her tongue into your mouth, somehow gentle and rough at the same time. You loved how her fingers felt against your flushed skin–cool and electric. The way she smiled into you. She gave you butterflies.

But you also knew that any minute now, she’d pull up on your shirt, as if asking for permission. You knew that her hands would sneak a little higher up on your torso, and she’d watch you to make sure you were okay. And you knew that, just like you always did, you’d gently push her hands back down, gently tug your shirt back into place, and continue kissing her like nothing had happened.

But that was the problem–nothing had happened. Nothing would happen because you couldn’t bear to let Emily see what was under your shirt. It wasn’t that you were modest, that you had a hard time with sex. What you had a hard time with were the scars that dotted your breasts like a galaxy, scars that even the best of sports bras couldn’t hide entirely. You wanted Emily and, god knows, she wanted you. But you just knew that she’d see them–see those red streaks painted across you like an oil painting of flames–and one of two things would happen.

She might see them and feel sorry for you. And you’d seen that kind of sorry before. It was the kind of sorry that swallowed relationships whole, that changed the way someone thought about you, looked at you, loved you. And you hated that. You were six years into recovery, no relapses, and you were proud of that. You wanted the people who loved you, who saw you at your most vulnerable, to know the you that you used to be, but to love the you that was now. And so often it seemed that people got stuck on the you who dragged safety pins across your skin. You weren’t her anymore. You’d worked hard not to be.

Even worse, Emily might see the scars and find you disgusting. She’d see that there had been something wrong with you, with your brain. She’d know that at some level, there was still something wrong with you. After all, your trauma, your mental illness–they hadn’t gone away. You had spent a whole lot of years in therapy and on medication to deal with them, but they were still a part of you, a part of your story. They were a part that was hard to look at. Even for you. You found those parts of yourself ugly, believed they deserved to be hidden–much like your scars. How much uglier would they be to Emily? Emily, who wasn’t in your mind, who didn’t know what had come before or during or after, and could only see what was left–the evidence that you were not okay.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Emily’s fingers slipped under your shirt, tentatively dancing up your torso. You let out a shaky sigh and grabbed her hands in yours, deepening the kiss, hoping it was enough to distract her. But it wasn’t. Not this time.

She pulled back and watched you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” you prompted, flushing and trying to act like nothing was wrong.

She bit at one of her nails as she watched you, and you pulled her hand away to hold it between both of yours.

“Are you…” She hesitated, like she didn’t quite know how to ask. “Do you want to… break up?” She looked sad, scared. And, for your part, you were sure you looked absolutely shocked.

“What!? No! No, Em, of course not!” You ran gentle fingers over her face, trying desperately to communicate that you absolutely didn’t want to break up and would, in fact, like to never, ever break up.

“You just…” She sighed, picking at her fingernails again. “I love making out with you, but you never want to go any further. And I get it if you’re not ready, that’s completely fine. It’s just… it’s been a while, and I want to make sure you’re not here because… you know, because you feel like you have to be.”

You stared at your hands. You felt like your guilt might swallow you whole. Here you’d thought you were playing it cool, but realistically, what would have been the end game? Never having sex with Emily? Never letting her see your body? You’d been in relational limbo for over a month now, and it had been stupid, so stupid, to assume there wouldn’t be any consequences. She thought you didn’t like her! She thought you weren’t as into her as she was into you! And it was exactly the opposite–you were so into her that it scared you, so into her that it was scarier than it had ever been to show your scars. The thought of losing her–already, even so early on–was terrifying.

“Emily,” you started, rubbing your thumb over her hand. “I’m here because I want to be. I really like you.”

She blinked, thinking harder. “Am I… am I doing something? You know, that makes you… not want to–”

“Oh god,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands. “No, Em. No. You’re beautiful. You’re perfect. I do want to.”

You sighed and looked at her. Her head bent, hands worried. Your self-consciousness was making Emily self-conscious. And you really couldn’t bear that she’d think less of herself because of you.

“Take off my shirt,” you said, bluntly.

“What?”

“Take it off. It’s okay.”

Emily fiddled with a stray piece of upholstery on the couch. “I don’t know, Y/N, this doesn’t seem like the right mood for—”

“Emily,” you pleaded, squeezing one of her hands. You knew if you didn’t do it now, you might never. “Please.”

Emily watched you with concern, but did as you asked, slowly lifting your shirt up and over your head.

You looked up to the ceiling, exhaling shakily, willing yourself not to cry. She would see them. She was seeing it. She saw them. You didn’t know if you could ever look her in the eyes again. You didn’t even know if you could look at yourself.

You felt Emily’s hand press gently into yours, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at her. Then you felt one of her fingers, cold for the shock of it more than the actual temperature, at the top of your breasts, the part that peeked out from the bra, littered with angry, red lines that had only somewhat faded over the years.

You felt her trace one of the scars, the whole, long trajectory of it, with her finger, and then when she reached the end, she leaned forward and planted a kiss at its zenith. Your breath caught in your throat as she continued following the scars, kissing you again and again and again until–though you’d worked so hard not to–you had stray tears leaking down the side of your face.

Emily grasped your face in her hands, so gently, so gingerly, and lowered your head, using her thumbs to brush the tears from under your eyes. You still couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Y/N, look at me,” she said softly, caressing your face. You finally forced yourself to look into her eyes, and what you saw there surprised you. It wasn’t pity and it wasn’t disgust. It was something new. Admiration and respect. And–maybe, just maybe–love?

“You’re beautiful,” she told you, staring at you pointedly, holding your face so that you couldn’t look away. “You’re beautiful, and that’s all we’re gonna say about it unless you want to talk more.”

“I feel like you should–” you said, your voice breaking a bit as you sniffled. “You should know why and– and when, and–”

“I am happy to listen to anything you want to tell me,” she assured you. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to. It’s your story, and you can tell me what you want, when you want. Believe me, though,” she said, smiling mischievously. “I don’t need any more information tonight if you’re not ready.”

“Really?” you asked.

Showing the scars had been hard enough. You didn’t really want to talk about your hellish high school and college years, the man who had touched you there and made you want to rip all your skin off, the years of therapy, the relapses, the depression, the medication. You’d tell her. You’d tell her all of it, you knew. But right now, you wanted to reap the rewards of being brave. The rewards being Emily.

Emily nodded and winked at you, then leaned in to brush her lips against your ear. “Y/N,” she whispered. “The only information I needed was that you had boobs under there.”

You blushed and grinned at her, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for another heated kiss.

When you pulled away, Emily was nearly panting. You smirked. “I showed you mine. It's your turn.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #hurt/comfort #self h@rm #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[valeriele3]

hello! I've been craving some octotrio angst and was wondering if you would indulge lol. if it's within your boundaries, what about a reader who struggles with self harm?

Octotrio x GN!Yuu/Reader

The reader in this fic is Yuu although the fic is mostly in 2nd pov ^^; Warnings: Self-harm(reader/Yuu), attempted suicide(reader/Yuu), and implied depression(reader/Yuu), not proofread (Please lmk if I missed smth) Words: 2019

Self-harm

It was one of the things you thought you'd never do.

Everything was perfect; your life was perfect, or so you thought.

You were grateful; you really were. You had both your parents, had nice siblings, or, if you ignore the usual sibling shenanigans, they were nice, your grandparents had always supported you, you had a lot of friends, good grades, you never had to go through a day with an empty stomach, and even lived in a decently sized house.

So where did it all go wrong? Why have you fallen into this hole? When did it start?

All you knew was that one moment everything was perfect, and the other everything seemed to crumble down.

Little by little, the beautiful tower you had built crumbled and turned into ruin. 

The anger, the sadness, and the fatigue that you had been keeping locked away burst open, spilling all over.

No matter how much you try to scoop it up and place it back into its container, it leaks back. After all, a broken container can't keep everything inside; it'll continue to leak.

The festering emotions got too much to handle.

And so, you just gave up.

Why try to contain something that'll somehow keep getting out?

You hid

You cried

Pleading that someone, anyone, to help you, to rescue you, to be that prince who rescues his damsel in those fairytales you've read as a child.

But, oh, you've mistaken something. Life isn't a fairytale; it never was and isn't even close to being one. This is reality; there is no shining prince to rescue you, and there is no happily ever after.

But then, you thought of something; why not distract yourself instead?

If, for even a second, you could forget about your troubles, wouldn't that be great?

Although temporarily, you can be free.

'Ah, but isn't self-harm bad?'

'I̵̬͝'̸̨̈́m̷̘͒ ̸͙̅s̷̹̋u̶̫͗r̵̠̾e̸̘͝ ̶̳̈́i̵͓͂t̷̤͊'̷̞̓ṣ̷̃ ̶̪̆f̴̮̔i̸̳͆n̸̜̊e̵̤̍.̸̱̈́ ̸͎͝Ì̷͖t̸͙͠'̶͇̄s̴̻͛ ̶̛̼ó̴ͅn̴̝͝l̸̤͛ý̵̤ ̴̹̔ó̴̖n̴̖̄c̶̻̈́e̵̦͘ ̶̟̀o̷̻̎r̶̺͛ ̷̬̄t̵̜̏ẃ̴̠i̴̗̇c̵̱͌ȩ̶̑ ̶̺͋a̶̱͋n̷̪͘ỳ̴̖w̷̤̐a̷̟͋ỳ̸̟.̵̠̂'

'Just o̵̪͒n̴̜̈c̵̤̃e̴͕̚ then..'

Oh, how foolish you were.

Once someone feels the relief they've been longing for, it's hard to let go.

They'll keep seeking it.

They'll keep wanting.

They'll grow to be reliant on that addictive feeling of your worries going away.

With each passing day, week, and month, the scars on your arm increase.

Your family has grown worried.

Their once cheerful child suddenly turned gloomy. Oh, what could have happened to their beloved child? But alas, they never dared to ask.

They just watched as you spiraled down into the abyss.

Everyone did

T̶̻̑h̶̄ͅĕ̷͖r̸̩̀a̶̫̕p̴̝͝y̶̧̎

You and your 'friends' were hanging out during lunch.

You sat at the farthest corner, listening to their laughter, when suddenly one of them piped up, "Hey, Yuu, you should go to a therapist; otherwise, you might just infect everyone with that gloom you have." Everyone seemed to think it was funny and burst into laughter.

That comment was obviously a jab at you, but.. maybe they were right.

A therapist—you never thought of that. Maybe.. you can return to your old ways if you try it out.

You had been going to a therapist for the past 2 years.

The progress is slow, but there's a bit of improvement, at least.

You were slowly returning to being a "normal human being."

You'll be free.

Soon

You'll be free from the shackles.

You just have to endure a bit more.

'̶̯͠A̶͓͠h̸͎̊,̵͇̈ ̸̺̍ȟ̶̜o̷̬͒w̵̠̎ ̸̤̏s̸̬̅t̸͙͠ǘ̸̠p̷̙͝i̷̯͝d̶͔̂ ̷͈̚I̶̧͗ ̷̤̉w̴̩̄ȃ̸ͅs̸̠̿ ̴͚̀ť̴̫o̴͉͛ ̴̜͗b̸͎̏ę̷̂l̷̰̂ị̶̈́ẻ̵̩v̴̟͐e̶̗͘ ̷͒͜ḽ̷͌ì̷͙f̶̹̓ḙ̷̂ ̶͒͜w̸̻̿o̷͚͛ų̴̛l̶͈̉d̵̠̀ ̷̧̈́b̵̛̜e̷͍̾ ̴͙̓t̴̞̋h̶̥̍à̶̫t̶̖̿ ̶͈͛ë̶͎́a̸̭̍s̷͚͂y̷̼̾'̴̯͝

Just when you thought life had finally smiled upon you

Everything seemed to crumble again.

Your failing grades had caught up to you; your family is now struggling to make ends meet; and the people around you slowly left one by one.

"̵̭́W̷͔͂h̵̯̚ỵ̸̐?̴̧̕"̷̰͆

̸̳̂"̵̦͊I̵̡͝'̶̺̑l̷̼̈́l̸̬͌ ̴͓͠b̸̩͌e̷̳͒ ̶̪͝b̴̨͆ḛ̶̊ṯ̸͘t̵͈̅e̵͓͐r̸̫̃ ̶̮͝t̵̫̓h̵̻͐i̷̖̅ș̴̎ ̸̞͌t̶̼̆i̵͓̿m̸͓̀ë̵̻́!̵̪͂ ̴̙̀P̴̋ͅl̶͔̾e̸͇͌a̴͍̾s̶̬͝e̴͉͑ ̴̺̈́c̶̜͊o̷̘͝m̷̩͛é̶̟ ̷̜̊b̷̦͝ä̶͎́c̷͍̐k̶̩̓!̸̭̒"̶̞́

Everything crumbled beyond repair

Life.. felt hopeless and useless; it was painful.

You were walking down the street when you thought

'Maybe if I were to rush into oncoming traffic, my pain will finally end'

Just as you were about to take a step towards the traffic, you heard a horse neighing. 

You turn your head to the left and see a carriage heading your way.

You were frozen.

One part wanted to move away from danger, and the other wanted to stay in place.

Y̵͚̋ò̵̝u̴͍͑ ̴͔̍w̴̪͆ã̴̙n̷̠͝t̷̖͌e̴̳̍d̶̖̑ ̸̦͆t̵̗͑o̷̫̓ ̶̙̉l̶̞̔i̵̦̿v̵̩̈́e̷̡̔

Not even a second later, you collide with the carriage.

'Ah, I guess I really am destined for a bad ending'

"Shrimpy~, wake up!"

"Floyd, I'd wish for you to please not bother the prefect."

"Eh~, but they're cryin' in their sleep."

"What?" Jade and Azul say in sync.

"Floyd! What did you do?!"

"Wha~t? Me? I didn't do anythin'!"

"Don't blame me, blame Jade!"

"I don't see why I should be blamed, Floyd."

"I bet you made Shrimpy cry with your weird mushrooms!"

"I don't see any reason for my sweet innocent mushrooms to be dragged into this conversation" Jade says, giving his signature customer service smile.

Grumbles and mischevious laughter fill the room.

"All right, stop it, both of you. You'll wake the prefect up if you continue this childish banter."

"Aha ha! It looks like your warning came off late, Azul~"

"Welcome to the world, Shrimpy!"

"Ahem..I believe it was, "Welcome back to the land of the living," Floyd" Jade snickers.

Floyd ignores Jade and opts to engulf you in a hug instead.

You feel him squeeze tighter and tighter until you can barely breathe.

"F-Floyd- a-ir"

Azul gives Jade a pointed look, signaling him to stop Floyd in his assault lest you go back to being knocked out.

After catching your breath, you look around the room you're currently in.

You were in the lounge VIP room.

"Ahem, um, what am I doing here?"

"Hm? Do you not remember?" Azul turns to you

"No, I don't think so.?"

Floyd was about to say something when suddenly Azul stopped him from saying anything further.

"Jade"

"Yes sir"

With that simple exchange, Jade drags Floyd out of the room.

'Weird..'

"Since it seems that you've forgotten, allow me to refresh your memory."

"You see, you came here to have lunch, but then suddenly you fainted! We were so worried that we decided to graciously let you rest in here until you woke up."

"I see.." 'I guess that explains why my head is sore..Although it feels more like I got hit rather than some sort of mental pain..'

You decide to trust Azul this time

"Anyways, feel free to rest some more or leave if you feel like you can move without any problems."

"Right, well then, thank you for taking care of me." You begin to stand up, only to almost fall down.

It seems that your leg fell asleep.

You chuckle awkwardly. "Or... maybe staying a bit won't hurt."

"I..Please stay as long as you find necessary." Azul pretends to have seen nothing.

After resting for a bit, you exit the room and walk around the place.

Noticing a glint in the corner, you turn your body towards the source.

You come face-to-face with a room full of aquariums.

No, can you even call it that? The room was so majestic, it almost felt as if you were in the ocean itself.

It felt.. relieving, serene, and healing.

Suddenly, you were engulfed in a hug.

You tried to turn your head, but the person ensured that you wouldn't be able to see them, even hiding their face in the crook of your neck.

But hidden or not, you could easily tell it was Floyd. Due to the number of times he'd hugged you, you learned to recognize it right away when it was him who hugged you.

"Who made you cry?" His voice, barely above a whisper, was laced with concern, sadness, and anger.

"Cry? What do you mean, Floyd?"

You received no reply.

Just as you were about to speak up, your eyes got covered by someone's hands.

Naturally, you started to panic, but then a gentle voice spoke, "Don't keep everything inside. It's alright to cry." You recognized the voice to be Jades.

The tightness around your chest, your vision blocked, only able to rely on your sense of hearing

It would make one panic.

It felt suffocating, but.. for once in your life, this tightness, this darkness you feel around you, felt warm, comforting, welcoming, and protecting.

Footsteps..

You hear footsteps make their way towards you.

You can hear them stop in front of you.

"Yuu, don't be afraid. It's alright, you can let it all out."

"We'll be here supporting you."

It was Azul; he tries to sound confident and maintain his usual composure, but you can easily tell by his tone of voice that he feels awkward saying this.

Suddenly, you feel a sort of gust of wind, and next thing you know, the solid floor you had been standing on is gone.

You panic once again and try to speak up, but a finger, presumably Azuls, shushes you.

The tweels let go of their hold on you. You opened your eyes, and in front of you was complete darkness.

"Jade? Azul? Floyd? Where are you?"

You turn but something feels off.

The pressure you feel makes it feel like you're underwater.

All of a sudden, a light enters your field of vision.

Two blobs? 

You notice the two glowing things getting closer to you.

Hurriedly, you try to swim away as fast as you can, but something else keeps you in place.

Something slippery, like tentacles, held you in place.

You close your eyes, accepting your fate, but after a few beats of nothing happening, you open your eyes to see once again, only this time you could actually see something and not just darkness.

In front of you were the tweels, with one of them barely being able to contain his laugh, and the tentacles that held you in place belonged to none other than Azul Ashengrotto himself.

Upon noticing your gaze, the octopus man, as if acting on instinct, slaps your face in the other direction.

You stare dumbfoundedly.

"Ah, ahem..I sincerely apologize for.. slapping you, Prefect."

Floyd, no longer able to contain his laughter, bursts out laughing, "Pfft- Aha ha! Shrimpy looked so scared, and Tako-chan accidentally..Pfft"

Azul gave Floyd a pointed glare. "Hmph, and here I thought you'd dropped that Tako-chan ages ago" he mumbled.

"Fufu~ As entertaining as this is, I'm afraid you guys just traumatized the prefect."

After giving all the explanations (Especially how you're able to breathe underwater and not die from the water pressure..) and needed sorry's, they officially started the so-called "Give the Prefect a relaxing day." mission.

The name really didn't match any of the events that happened today, but.. you can't do anything about what's already happened, sadly.

And so, the rest of the day consisted of them dragging you around the ocean and showing you things they thought you'd like.

Visiting the city and just having fun.

"Azul, Jade, Floyd! Look! It's ice cream! Underwater!! This has to be magical ice cream!"

The octotrio watched as you admired the ice cream you had in your hand. It was like watching a child see ice cream for the first time.

Seeing the smile on your face, the trio deemed the mission accomplished.

Tired, you and the trio decided to rest in a nearby, secluded spot.

"Thank you"

"Hm? Did you say something, Prefect?" Jade asks.

"Ah, no, it's nothing." You smile, silently thanking the trio once again.

After a while, you unknowingly fell asleep, and when you awoke, you were back at the Ramshackle dorm, safely tucked away in bed.

You figured that maybe what happened was just a dream.

Unbeknownst to you, however, while you were still asleep, the trio swore an oath to make sure you were protected and would never be hurt again. Be it physical or mentally

The scars on your arms felt different this time around. As if someone had kissed it so lovingly and thanked you for being still alive that you were still here in the world, but, oh well, it's probably just your mind making things up, right?

.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^

I'm so sorry for this abominationnnn. I lost all the vision I had by the time the trio appeared, and when I regained it, it was already too late, as I had already written a lot. And the ending is so rushed too T-T

#☆〜valerie's own work #☆〜ask/request #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #octotrio #jade leech #jade leech x reader #jade leech x yuu #floyd x reader #floyd leech #twst azul #twst wonderland #twst octavinelle #twst jade #twst yuu #disney twst #twst angst #twst floyd #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto x yuu #twisted wonderland floyd #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x yuu #floyd leech x y/n #self h@rm #angst

[diejager]

This gon be real dark but hear me out

So during hanky panky, dbf!Horangi finds there are like… cuts on reader’s wrists? Like s/h? And then he goes to tell stepdad!König. What would happen? Will they comfort or belittle them?

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, STEPCEST, self-harm, âge difference/gap, suicidal thoughts, tell me if I missed any.

It was an accident, a complete accident that he stumbled into the bathroom as you were cutting yourself, crimson ichor or rolling down your forearm. The small blade you used gleamed under the yellow light, the sharp edge stained in a familiar red that he knew from the many times he bit you. His body moved without much thought, ripping the thin blade from your hands and gripping your cut arm in the softest hold he’s every used on you. He fussed about your self-inflicted wound, tender words spilling from his tongue to smooth your pained moans when he cleaned and wiped your cuts —new and old. 

How had he not seen them? They stood out on your skin, red and inflamed, a throbbing wound that pained him to look at. There weren’t any similar cuts, each scabs aged differently, a shade too light or too dark from each other. None were made on the same day, and it hurt him to see so many lines of scabs and dried blood. He knew he was demanding, unfair and a possessive and bad man, but he ached whenever he was too far from you, when he lacked or hungered for your presence. He gave a part of himself to you and took your whole being. Perhaps that drove you to harm yourself, to feel something other than… loneliness, was it? Was that what he and König caused?

He knew the feeling well enough to call it an old friend, no one in the army was a stranger to cutting themselves, he used to do it before he was forced into therapy, they called it. It was to help his mind and body. It hadn’t worked on him, he was too stubborn to give up an ounce of his past to a person who wouldn’t understand him, but it had worked for others, he simply found something else to put his mind to it. 

“Come,” he spoke slowly, guiding you out of the bathroom when you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, finding the carpeted ground so interested, “We need to talk.”

He sat you on the kitchen table, bursting into König’s office while he worked, singing off papers and typing away at something on his laptop, and asked him for König’s medkit. Blue eyes rove over his body, confused but still handing him the kit he kept in his drawer, König inquired about his use of it since he wasn’t wounded, no scrape or redness on the skin König could see. 

“Who is it for?” 

Horangi grunted out your name and that was all König needed to leave his office, strutting to the kitchen with long legs and even longer steps. He too, fussed about your arms, harsh hisses and worried frowns as he moved around to patch you up with the bandage Horangi pulled out, fixing you up as gently as he could with his giant fingers. You wouldn’t look at any of them, staring intently at your lap, your fingers sinking into the meaty fat of your thigh. 

“We need to talk, Schatzi,” König grumbled, blinking away the worry and meeting Horangi’s eyes, sharing a single thought when they watched you shake you head, adamantly staying silent with your troubles.

“And someone else? We know someone,” Horangi tried, closing in on you with a warm palm over your waist, “A therapist, someone who knows what they’re doing, hmm?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #horangi #horangi mw2 #horangi x reader #horangi cod #könig x reader #konig cod #Stepdad!konig #Stepdad!könig #Dbf!horangi #self h@rm #self harm #tw self harm #tw: dark content #dark content #tw: dub con #tw: non con #tw: age gap #age difference #dead dove do not eat

[cilliansdove]

BABY IM SORRY || tommy shelby imagine

pairings: tommy shelby x fem!reader

warnings: postnatal depression/ angst/ suicidal thoughts/ mentions of self harm

summary: y/n's struggling with postnatal depression.

a/n: I am not responsible for the writing you consume. If anything in my writing makes you feel uncomfortable, I apologise, however I can't do much about it. This is my writing and I take full credit for it so please do not copy x paste/rewrite the writing. You may repost/like/comment etc. Enjoy reading!!

There was a feeling of emptiness in my gut that'd been lingering for a while now. It made me feel weak, spoke sorrows to me- told me I wasn't doing nor giving enough; that I was worthless. It got to me all the time sometimes. And it wasn't something I could run away from, or something I could escape. It was glued to me, embedded itself in my skin and made me feel dirty.

I'd spend hours in the bathtub, scrubbing at my skin till it bled and the water made me shiver from the coldness of it.

Tommy never knew about it, I made sure of it. However, it seemed pretty obvious to me, so perhaps he didn't have the time to care anymore. Either that, or I really was useless. To both Tommy and the baby.

No amount of words could portray the numbness I felt around the mini me. As a mother, I'm meant to be able to nurture the little human, yet as of now, I haven't even looked at them for a week.

Frances always gives me this 'look' of sympathy when she sees me; it makes me feel sick. But then again, I always seem to be feeling sick nowadays.

And Mrs Shelby. A name I was no longer living up to. I was destroying the title completely. I stopped organising charity events, stopped going out. I was a rotting corpse, in a rotting home.

Worst of all, Tommy had finally caught on. That didn't hurt, no. It was the look in his eye that made me heart clench- the way his body slumped after seeing how drained I was.

I felt tears begin to brim in my empty eyes, "I'm sorry..." I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I couldn't bare to look him in the eyes.

Tommy cupped my chin and tilted it upwards so I'd look at him. He tilted his head to the side, observing me from head to toe, like I was damaged. As if it wasn't only my head rotting anymore, it was my body too.

His fingertips traced my greying cheekbone and he leant his face down to brush his nose against mine.

"No, Y/n. This is my fault," A tear streamed down his face and I frowned at him, "Baby I'm sorry...I should've been here for you and I haven't," Tommy pressed his forehead against mine.

I hesitantly closed my eyes and nodded my head, "It's okay-"

He cut me off, "No it's not. Don't make excuses for my poor behaviour," He frowned softly and cupped my jaw , "Y/n what's wrong, love?"

I looked at him emptily, baffled by his question. I didn't have an answer to it. But I swallowed down my fear and answered meekly, "I'm not sure, Tommy..."

He looked behind me, gawking at the mess of our bedroom.

"Where's Charlie? Why aren't you with him?"

His words made me choke up, causing tears to freely spill from my eyes. With the little strength I had, I squeezed the fabric of his shirt, and he got the hint.

Tommy put my head on his chest and stroked through the knots in my hair.

"He doesn't need me, Tommy. I'm not good enough to him. I can't feed him properly, I can't settle him. For fuck sakes, I can't even hold him! I'm a disgrace of a mother and a wife. A no good, stupid-"

He shut me off with a gentle kiss to my lips. They moved soothingly against mine, giving me a small sense of comfort.

Tommy pulled away gently, and cupped my face, looking me dead in the eye with a sympathetic look. The same one Frances always gave me.

"You listen to me now, ay?"

I weakly nodded.

"You a no disgrace, Y/n, I can promise you that, my love. And it hurts me that you think you aren't good enough, because god forbid, Y/n, if I didn't have you, there would be no 'Tommy Shelby'. I'd be a nobody," he rests his forehead against mine, "but you are hurting yourself, love. And I am in no way blaming you for that, but it isn't necessary. I love you, yeah? That little boy in his bed loves you too. He thinks the world of you, Y/n. So please, please, love. Come back to me."

I let out a small sob and nodded. But the longer I listened to him, the more the guilt opened its arms to me.

I fell into Tommy, hugging him tightly as I buried my face into his shoulder.

He cooed to me, "It's okay, love. Shh...shh...it's alright. I'm not angry at you, I'm just...scared."

Slowly, I untucked my face from his shoulder, and looked at the tear stains on his shirt. I sniffled and looked up at him. Tommy wiped away my tears with his thumbs.

"I never meant to scare you, Tom."

"I know, love. I know."

____________________________________________

A week later he had taken me to the doctors. They had diagnosed me with postnatal depression. It was the cause to my mood changes, especially towards the baby.

There was no clear fixture other than to 'talk things out'. So I did.

Tommy made me cuddle up to him in bed, and rest my head on his chest so he could stroke my hair.

"Just talk when you can, sweetheart. Or if you're not ready, that's okay too, yeah?"

I let out a deep sigh and snuggled closer to him. Both my fists were clenched, but after a couple minutes, I relaxed.

"Promise you won't be angry?" I looked at him nervously.

Tommy rolled his head back, looking up at the ceiling, "We've spoken about this, Y/n/n. I'm not gonna be angry, ay? I just want to help you, alright?"

"Alright."

I dwelled on whether to speak or be silent.

The urge to tell him how I felt was eating away at me. It was now or never.

"Tommy..." I sat up in the bed, and lay the same way he did. On my back, with an arm under my head on the pillow- staring up at the ceiling.

"Tommy I hurt myself..." My eyes didn't blink for what felt like hours. After saying it, it made what I had done, seem real.

He didn't speak either, which rattled my nerves. Was he angry? Disappointed? Did he not love me anymore? Did he-

"Show me."

I dashed up, and stared at him, "Are you absurd? No!"

He shot out of bed and pinned me to him by my shoulders, making me shriek.

"For god sakes, woman! I need to see it, Y/n!"

He towered over me, his piercing blue eyes shooting at me. I squirmed in his tight grip, trying to get out of it.

"Stop it!" I sobbed, giving up, "S-Stop it."

My body slumped in his grip, and I let my knees buckle and take me to the floor.

Tommy pulled me back up and whispered gently to me ,"Please, love...I need to see. If you don't show me, Y/n, I'll have to go rooting myself."

A deep sob wrecked through me and I gripped his shirt tightly. He wasn't giving me a choice. He was being unfair. Tommy wouldn't want to see the damage I'd caused to myself. It was disgusting.

Hesitantly, I let the straps of my dress slip down my shoulders, allowing it to pool to my feet. I watched as Tommy's eyes were met with the discolouration on my thighs. I watched as his eyebrows flipped upwards. I watched as he didn't blink. I watched him shake his head.

Out of the blue, he pulled me to him in a tight embrace whilst he let out heavy sobs. Ones that made my heart ache.

Without thinking about it, I let my hands run through his hair in attempt to soothe him. But his body was getting heavy on me so i sat us on the bed.

He gazed at me with his puffy eyes, "Why, Y/n? Why, love?"

I shrugged with a blank look on my face. I wasn't sure how to react to the situation.

"I don't know...I thought it was the only way to cope," I looked at the ceiling to stop myself from crying, "It took away the emptiness I felt. I couldn't talk to you...because I didn't want to burden you further with my baggage."

"Oi! I vowed to you that I would look after you through thick and thin, and through sickness and health," he planted a kiss on my temple, "You have never been a burden to me, my love. And you never will be. Because I love you."

I frowned at him, a confused look in my eye, "I don't understand."

"You don't need to. All you need to know, is that I love you no matter the issue, okay?"

____________________________________________

- part 2??🤔🤔

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #cillian x fem!reader #angsty #postpartum #comfort #peaky blinder imagine #im cryin #fem reader #tommy shelby #depressing shit #self h@rm #slef harm #tommy shelby x fem!reader #the peaky blinders #angst x reader #tumblr fyp

[nahokura]

Vox finding out that his s/o self harms

Warnings: Comfort, Vox shouting at you, crying, sh, violence mentioned

Vox might be ooc, he's really sweet here but lmk if you want a "more realistic" version.

No gender mentionned :)

• He would search for you everywhere, but even with the cameras he set up everywhere around the pride ring, he couldn't find you.

• He got anxious, his screen glitching as he screamed how dumb new technologies were.

• Then he remembered that he hadn't set up cameras in the rooms, the toilets and the bathrooms.

• He now knew where you were and dissapeared from his seat in a flash of electricity.

• He appeared in front of you, you were against the door of yours and Vox's room, crying in your arms, you thighs were up to your chest.

• Your sleeves were up and Vox immediately looked at your wrists, he felt something was wrong for some times but he was really busy and he knew he wouldn't have had the greatest reaction.

• The first thing he saw was the blood running down your wrists, he crouched down and tried to keep his calm.

• You flinched a bit but let him grab your hand and get a closer look at your wrists.

• His TV head glitched again, he made up several scenarios, did you want to do it because of Valentino? Velvet? Alastor? Him?

• He took your chin in his index and thumb after calming down.

《Why?》

• You didn't know what to answer, which made Vox snapped and shouted but he was in fact mad at himself for not finding out sooner

《Are you out of your damn mind?! What would get in your fucking head to do such an awful thing to yourself?!》

• Unfortunately for you, it sounded like he was blaming you, so your reaction was a sob coming out straight from your throat.

• He immediately felt guilty and pulled you in a hug, not really caring if you stained his clothes with the blood on your wrists.

• He was always very protective with you.

《Shh, I'm here, it's okay, everything's okay.》

• He was rubbing your back, his arms tightened carefully around you.

《Take your time and talk to me about it, I don't want to leave you alone in time like this.》

• You were holding onto him for dear life, your cries making themselves louder as you got more comfortable with your partner.

• After you calmed down, Vox smiled softly at you and put his hand on your cheek, lifting your head and rubbing his thumb softly against your wet red cheek.

• He waited for you to speak and you explained your reasons, whichever it was, Vox was only glad you trusted him enough to talk about it.

• He was really proud of you.

• If he found the person who made you feel like that, he would catch him wherever he went and strangle him to death.

• However, if it was because you were feeling down, even for nothing, he'd be even more clingy with you. (He never leaves you usually, except when he has to.)

• Bro is the sweetest man and was always giving you words of affirmations so after this, god, you were covered in sweet words.

• He would clean your wrists and bandage them softly.

• Kisses your scars when they're done healing.

• Doesn't stop being sweet with you, even after you get out of your bad mental state.

#x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #comfort #self h@rm #healing #fluff #hb

[samkerrworshipper]

togetherness pt.3 | matilda’s x reader

lowkey have come to detest this series chase i started it in first person and i no longer write in that format butttt some of yall want it so i have to supply 🤷‍♀️

warnings/themes: self harm implications, talks of past sexual abuse, lots of trauma, comfort, just general sadness tbh

As we pulled up to our own hotel Sam and Steph were smiling like idiots, joking about something or another. I was lost in thought, thinking about everything that had just happened. My haze was cut short though as my door was opened for me and Sam stood on the outside, waiting for me to hop out. I unclicked my seatbelt hurriedly before climbing out of the car and ducking behind the car to grab my bag quickly. My coping mechanism was to grab my phone out of my pocket and to start to scroll through it as I waited on Sam and Steph to collect their own things. My phone was my social crutch, when I felt awkward it was what I leant to.

“Kiddo, let’s go?”

My head was pulled from my phone as I came to the realisation Sam and Steph had both collected their belongings and were walking towards the front of the hotel, Steph passing her car keys off to the valet. I scurried after the two older women, my behaviour was oddly skittish and I was sure the both of them were picking up on it.

We flashed our ID cards at the front desk before making our way into the team front room where we left our kit bags, just so there was no confusion of them in the rooms. We all individually stowed away our bags, collecting whatever essentials we needed from our bags before leaving them in their spots for the night. I grabbed my drink bottle, my airpods and my ugg boots from my bag before walking over to the food table, it was the table where they left all the snacks that were there to be taken at any time of the day. I picked up a packet of gummy bears instead of a granola bar, Leah wouldn’t have been happy with my switch but I wasn’t eating a granola bar so it was an improvement?

After grabbing the bag of gummy bears, filling up my water bottle and grabbing a bottle of gatorade I followed Steph and Sam towards the elevators, waiting patiently as they clicked the button for our floor. They conversed between the two of them as we went up in the elevator, just general stuff.

“So Y/n/n, we’ll go get Steph’s stuff and we’ll bring it into your room and we’ll move whatever of your stuff is there into my room, okay?”

I nodded at Sam, excepting that this was happening.

As the doors opened I found myself following behind them as they walked towards their room. I followed them into the room as Sam unlocked it with her keycard. The room was similar if not identical to Ellie’s and I’s. Two, matching queen beds, a joining ensuite and two reasonable sized wardrobes. Steph very quickly packed her stuff up, throwing it all into her bags before procuring Sam’s help to move it down the hall. I wordlessly unlocked the door to formerly Ellie and I’s room. When we walked in Ellie was already in there, sitting on her bed, cuddled up in a pile of blankets and sweatshirts. She looked like she’d been crying and I found a part of me feeling bad for her. She was a good person, a person who had been through a lot considering her age.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

I couldn’t find it in me, even with the guilt riding through my body to look at her eyes. I knew that they’d betray me, that I’d no longer be able to be mad at her or annoyed if I was forced to look into those eyes.

“Ellie, how about we try this tomorrow morning? Y/n/n's tired, she’s not feeling too well.”

Steph’s voice was pretty forceful but Ellie found room to rebut.

“I just want to talk to her for fucks sakes, I deserve that at least before my fucking roommate is uprooted.”

I jumped back at Ellie’s harsh tone, finding myself in Sam’s personal space bubble. She didn’t flinch back at my sudden intrusion, instead pushed one of her own arms to my side, steadying me slightly.

“Ellie Maddison, you have already caused yourself enough trouble for one night, I would stop now. I already told you, Y/n/n isn’t feeling up to it. We can try this in the morning, if she wants. We wouldn’t be uprooting her if it wasn’t for you two behaving like three year olds. You both need sleep, not more petty arguing that is going to get us nowhere. Y/n, grab your things, we can talk this all out in the morning, both Sam and I are too tired to put up with any more of it.”

I scurried to collect my bag, I’d never really unpacked so it wasn’t hard. I just grabbed my pillow, bag, phone charger and backpack before scrambling my way out of the room. Sam helped me to haul my big bag down the hallway and into her room.

As soon as we closed the door behind us I could feel a part of me break, the part that broke inside of me every night when I crawled under the covers of my hotel bed or I collapsed on the floor of the ensuite. The vulnerable part of my soul that had never been prepared for this, never prepared for fame or attention. I mean as a kid I’d shied away from it as much as I could, kid Y/n was an insecure, anxious mess who had no idea what she wanted, that part of me was still the same.

“Do you need help unpacking? Steph had housekeeping come in today and clean our sheets so the beds are all clean, I try to keep fairly organised and clean but just a disclaimer that there are some stories about me sleep-talking that I neither deny or confirm.”

“I think I should be fine to put it all away, thank you though.”

Sam smiled at me and nodded, it seemed like there was something else hanging off of the tip of her tongue that she was deciding whether or not to say.

“Okay then, I’m just going to have a quick shower, I do not apologise if I start to sing, it’s a canon event.”

I snorted and nodded Sam’s way as I watched her dip into the ensuite. I set myself the task of firstly, getting changed. I clawed off my layers of matilda gear and very quickly changed into a pair of Qantas pyjamas that we’d gotten on our flight to Sydney, they were fresh and unopened and everything about them seemed comfortable. After I was done getting changed I set myself the task of stowing my bag away on my side of the wardrobe, I didn’t do much more than that, I didn’t really want to unpack right now. So I did a very quick version of my skincare routine and then climbed into my bed. It was comfy, the same as my one in the other room except it just felt different. Once I’d properly situated myself in the pillows I grabbed out my phone and started to scroll on instagram.

It was safe to say that when I was in a bag head space I spiralled a lot.

So when I was in the dumps about a bad game I would often find myself reverting to the hate pages on the internet. The internet is a fucked up place. Some of the things that strangers are willing to put out in the world about a person they don’t know is fucked. It was still a bad habit of mine though to constantly look at those posts.

Leah was always confiscating my phone after bad games, after bad days. She knew me too well, knew how when I got wrapped up in my own head there was nothing to do besides just be there for me. I fiddled anxiously as I flicked through the countless news articles that had been posted. The Australian had a particular hatred for me, had since I was a rookie and since they’d found some photos of me doing drugs back when I was a teenager and published it on the front cover of the Saturday papers. I’d had a particular shared hatred back at them after that. They had a field day every time I had a bad game, I was pretty much the leading lady of page 6. Our game last Saturday had been no different, one wrong kick and I was washed up and cracking under the pressure. The slew of twitter pages and reddit links that I’d been sent after that had been enough to make anyone feel sick to their stomach.

That was why I think I’d gotten roomed with Ellie, she was probably the most hated in the media on the team besides me. I think Sam had thought maybe we’d bond over it but neither of us were vulnerable enough to talk to the other about it. So it had just stewed between the both of us and honestly probably made it worse than it should have been.

“I don’t think I have ever seen a person in such an intense staring competition with their phone.”

I squealed as Sam very stealthily grabbed my phone from my own hands. I immediately sprung up, trying to retrieve it from her hands, I hadn’t had the opportunity to lock it.

“What are you hiding?”

I saw Sam’s interest peak as I fought intensely to grab my phone back. She held it above her head and I might have been taller than her but I couldn’t for the life of me manage to retrieve it from her hands even as I attempted to use her body as a climbing frame. After a few jumps and attempts I gave up, collapsing back into my bed and covering my body and head with the sheets and duvet. The room stayed silent as Sam did the inevitable and looked through my phone screen.

“Y/n.”

Her voice was even and I felt her bodyweight sink down onto the spot at the bottom of my bed. I felt her arms work their way up to the top of the duvet and slowly try to pry them out of my own hands. She succeeded fairly quickly, smiling at me as my face was revealed to the light of our hotel suite.

“There’s that pretty face, no need to be ashamed honey. You ought to not read into what Roger writes, he hates anything to do with women's sports, especially women who are succeeding so heavily at such a young age. You shouldn’t let your mental image of yourself be contorted by words written by a person who doesn’t know you or care about you, don’t do that to yourself, you deserve better.”

I looked at Sam, in all of her glory, sitting above me, an old nike shirt that looked like it had been washed 600 times. Her hair was brushed smoothly back into her classic low pony. It made me cry. Not sobbing crying, just wet, fat tears dripping down my face as I thought about that article. I could probably quote most of the journalist's work, I’d read it over and over and over.

“Come on now, don’t cry, please. You’ve done enough crying for tonight, don’t make me tickle you.”

Sam’s eyebrow rose in challenge as she stared down at me, silently challenging me to keep going. When I did, her hands found their way to my sides and started to tickle me intensely. I immediately let out a choken laugh, trying to suppress my giggles and cries.

“S-Sam stop ittt. S’ not fair.”

She smirked at me as she continued her abuse of my sides.

“Stop crying then, c’mon, there are better things to do with your time then cry over bullshit. I know Williamson would have my head if she knew that I was letting her girl get down in the dumps over something that’s out of your control. I am telling you now, honestly, your whole career there is always going to be someone who is going to try and take you down, journalists, social media, other players. It’s wrong, but we are women in a field that is predominantly presumed to be male dominated, we aren’t appreciated, we’re underpaid and we are slaughtered in the press for anything. The more you feed into it the worse it’s going to get, and I understand that the other stuff isn’t going to just go away but it is going to eventually get better, I promise you that.”

“You promise?”

Sam rolled her eyes and extended her pinky towards me.

“I pinky promise.”

I rolled my eyes at the cliche but interlocked my own pinky finger in hers and shook it. Sam reached down to wipe the tears from my face and smiled at me, a little glint in her eye.

“Now, I think it’s about time we got you tucked in, it’s been a big day for you.”

“I’m not tired.”

Sam rolled her eyes at my immediate defiance and plonked herself down next to me on the bed, resting beside me against the headboard. She lazily placed one of her arms around my shoulder, there was something so simple but complex about the whole situation.

“Do I need to explain to you the importance of getting eight hours?”

“This feels like one of those captain moments where you try and mom me into doing something that’s not going to happen.”

Sam snorted at my reply, nodding her head concedingly.

“Is the defiance just a young people thing or do you just enjoy being a pain in the ass?”

“There’s no fun in it if I agree to everything you tell me to do.”

Sam’s eyes damn near rolled into the back of her head.

“Is it hard using defiance as a defence mechanism constantly?”

The question took me back a little bit, it hadn’t been what I was expecting. She’d turned a pretty mild conversation into something deep so quickly that it took me a few seconds to recover.

“I don’t use defiance as a defence mechanism.”

My voice wavered a little bit, just enough for doubt to seep in.

“Yes you do.”

Sam’s voice was so matter of a fact, like she knew me better than I knew myself.

“No, I don’t.”

“You push everyone out, you don’t listen to anyone who is trying to help you out, you do things that are harmful to yourself without caring, you play with injuries, you put yourself in harms way a little bit to often, you hide your emotions, I could keep listing off if I wanted to.”

I hated how right Sam was, how observant she was, it made me queasy.

“Okay, so I do some of those things, but that doesn’t make it a defence mechanism.”

“What does it make it then? A form of self harm? A form of punishment? I think you’ve punished yourself enough, when does it all become enough, when in the mind of Y/n do you atone for your sins? Because from where I’m looking at it you are leading yourself in the direction of a cliff's edge and you aren't going to stop until you are over that cliff.”

I gulped, unsure of what to say to my skipper, because I couldn’t lie to her, not for the life of me but I also wasn’t going to sit here and listen to her pretty much tell me that I was suicidal or something.

“You don’t know what I’ve done or who I’ve hurt to get here.”

“I know you're a good kid, with a good heart and if Williamson decided to take a shot with you then you have to be worth it. I know you carry baggage, a lot more than you’ll ever tell anyone, some things that you don’t even tell Leah. I have my inferences, I know things are rough with your family, always has been. I know you're hard on yourself, far too hard on yourself considering you are nineteen. I know that you never saw yourself here, never saw yourself as being capable of being here and now that you are you are having an identity crisis because you are secretly terrified that you are never going to be good enough to be here, even though you are. You’re hurting a lot, I know roughly what you're doing to self soothe, it’s not good and I’m worried about you, all of us are.”

I bit down on my lip, staring out at the wall in front of me, unsure of what to say to Sam, because she was right in so many ways but her words were also like a stab in my heart, because until someone is telling you about your behaviours I don’t think it subconsciously sinks in.

“Something to think about, I’m always here kid, if you ever need to talk, or need help, or just someone to keep you company then I’m here, whatever you need.”

“I didn’t ever plan on being a professional football player,” I snorted in between my words, realising I was actually about to go down this path with my captain, a woman who had pioneered womens sport in Australia, “This sounds stupid but all I ever wanted growing up was to own a cattle station, wanted to live the humble life out on the farm. I know that sounds so stupid, because it’s so simple. But I never planned for this, I never wanted this. My parents put me into football and gymnastics when I was six and I was good at them, really good and it was for fun so it was fine. Then it wasn’t for fun and I was playing in national teams and olympic qualifiers. Then I broke my back falling off of a beam and I was happy, I was glad, because it meant that I could do what I wanted. Then I was in the party scene and everything was good, until it wasn’t. Then my parents were shipping me off to the AIS and I didn’t have a say. Next thing I’m here and I’m doing this and I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. But a part of me never wanted this and I know that’s bad of me to say because there are thousands of girls who would die for my spot but it’s the truth.”

I took a deep breath as I finished up my spew of words, it was a lot, I wasn’t an oversharer, most of it was probably word vomit but there was something about Sam that just made me feel comfortable with being vulnerable, I didn’t know what it was.

“That’s not stupid, having dreams isn’t stupid and it’s okay for you to be upset that you didn’t get what you wanted. You have a gift Y/n, the way that you play on the field is truly exceptional and I am telling you now that if you want to be the best professional footballer, then you can. You could be one of the best players in the game, better than me or any other player on this team, I believe that whole-heartedly. You deserve that, if you want it. If you start to make healthier decisions for yourself, decisions that don’t harm you. When was the last time you ate a proper meal? The last time you took time out of your day to look after yourself? How long until it starts to seriously harm you? Do I need to tell you how dangerous it is for a professional athlete to not be looking after their body, you are important Y/n, and so is your health.”

I fiddled with a loose thread that was protruding from the doona below me. My captain's words were sinking in, deep, like a tattoo. Etching its way into my skin, painfully.

“I am fine, our doctors have had no issues with clearing me, I eat and I do look after myself.”

My justification was weak, it was in my voice and in my mannerism. My statement just wasn’t believable, as much as I was trying to push it.

“So you know how to pass a medical test? I’d expect you too considering you fooled Tony the whole time you were at the AIS that you weren’t using. I’ve heard the story, it just proves to me that you know how to get around testing.”

Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t surprising Sam knew my history with drugs, I mean anyone who read the papers knew, it wasn’t private information. I was clean now, four years and proud of it. I’d had a bumpy road to recovery but I’d gotten there with time.

“I can look after myself.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“See, as soon as anyone tries to care for you, you close up.”

“I don’t close up. I just don’t respond to being interrogated.”

“You aren’t being interrogated.”

“Sure seems like it.”

“That’s a bit overdramatic, all I am trying to do is care for you, something you are adamant on avoiding.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because I couldn’t deny Sam in what she was saying, I did push people out who tried to care for me. Long ago Leah had accepted there were some parts of me that I was never going to be able to talk to her about, that was why she’d forced me into seeing a therapist.

“I don’t need you to care for me.”

“The scars on your thighs say otherwise.”

I blinked for a few seconds, taking a deep gulp as the words that Sam had just said set in, had she actually gone there? Had she actually just said that.

“That was a low fucking blow.”

Sam was clearly taken aback by her own words, it had clearly just spilled out of her. Sam was no filter, so it had come to me as no surprise that she frequently blurted, just the fact she’d said that though hit me deep.

“I’m not wrong.”

I could feel tears stemming at the back of my eyes, at the realisation that I was about to have this conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Does Leah know?”

“She’s had her queries, she doesn’t push it.”

“She doesn’t push the fact that you cut yourself?”

If her previous words hadn’t hit hard, those ones had, because those words, that assumption, that accusation was so confronting.

“It’s not like that.”

“Explain to me what it’s like then.”

I pushed Sam’s arm off of my shoulder, feeling like I need a more face to face conversation. I pushed myself off of the bed head, so I was sitting between Sam’s two legs, my legs crossed. It was vulnerable for me, just talking to someone about my feelings was vulnerable for me.

“When I was 15, when I gave up the drugs. I was in a lot of pain, I hated myself. It wasn’t easy, I mean I was trying pretty much everything I could to get injured. I got arrested for speeding underage twice, both times Tony had to bail me out. I was just a mess, so I started to hurt myself, to stop myself from seriously injuring myself. It was the only thing that I could do that would make me feel better, the only thing that I could turn to when shit got real. So it became my thing, then I turned pro and I stopped for a while, especially when Leah started to get on my case about it but then we got to training camp and it was all too much so I started again and I know it’s a bad habit and it’s serious but Sam, I wouldn’t be here right now without it.”

“Are you suicidal?”

It was a question I definitely wasn’t prepared for.

“I’ve had suicidal thoughts over the years, I’ve had my fair share of bad moments but no, I’m not suicidal. I don’t do it because I want to die, I do it because it gives me relief, from life, from football, from stress. For me it's an outlet, when life gets hard that’s how I deal with it. It's unhealthy but it’s what works for me and I know that it’s bad but it’s what works.”

Sam nodded at me, there was a certain softness to her words and features the more I spoke to her, the more barriers that I let go. Sam’s own hand found its way to my bicep, silently comforting me and telling me to stop rambling.

“I get it. You do what you have to do to survive, and there is nothing wrong with that. You do what you have to do to get through the day. You’re not broken. This isn’t something to be embarrassed about or guilty for. You are still a child Y/n, in so many ways. The world is hard sometimes, what we do is hard sometimes, we all have needs. You scavenge for anything that helps you to get through because you want to survive, you want to be ok. Then it works, so you continue to survive. Good for you, you figured out how to survive. You don’t need to spend everyday in survival mode anymore though, you have love in your life that prevents the constant need to survive.

The words burnt my soul and I could feel the tears brimming up again. I hated crying.

“You’re living your old life Y/n/n. But it’s done, it’s over. You get to have the good things that you never had, you can meditate, or go on holiday, you can read books, you can learn a new language, you can learn how to live in a way where you don’t have to hurt to handle all of the things that scare you. No shame, just growth, okay. You don’t have to hide in your ensuite at night by yourself, like you taught yourself to do to survive, am I clear?”

Sam’s eyes bored down into my soul, her words were so strong and definite.

“You’re going to call me, or Leah, or your therapist next time you feel like doing it, that’s an order. You are going to call one of us, call me, and I’ll talk to you, I’ll talk to you for however long it takes for you to understand that this,”

Sam’s hand fell down to my thigh, where we both knew the scars laid, underneath my sweats,

“Isn’t the solution, not anymore, we’re leaving it in the past. This isn’t your way to survive anymore, from now on you aren’t going to just survive, we are going to make you live, I promise you that. From here on out you are going to live, and enjoy living. I am going to try my hardest to keep to that promise, but you need to as well. Promise me you are going to try and do more than just survive, because this shit in the press, it sucks, but it’s going to go away and once it does you are going to be lost, you are going to struggle and that fight that you put in everyday to be here, it’s not going to be as present and when that happens, when all of the outside threats are denominated you are going to hit rock bottom, there’s one positive of hitting rock bottom though, there’s only one way up and when you realise that you have the potential to go upwards and you want to, life is going to get better.”

“Y’know I get why Polks and De Vanna recommended you for captain.”

My words were said with tears and snot running down my face, with the realisation that right now, I was being held accountable for my shit and it was a hard realisation. My captain's words had hit home for me with the realisation that there wasn’t room for me to behave like I previously had.

“I try my best, I expect you to do the same. This relationship, this situation, it doesn’t work if you aren’t prepared to put the work in, if you aren’t prepared to hit rock bottom and work upwards from there. When you do hit that bottom, I want you to call me, tell me you’ve had a bad day, or don’t, talk, or listen, whatever you need.”

I nodded at Sam.

“I am going to try.”

She smiled at me and nodded, all encouragement and comfort.

“Okay then, okay. Come here kid,”

Sam opened her arms for me and I collapsed into them, grateful for just the warmth and comfort of Sam’s arms. I understood why all of the girls gravitated to her, why they seeked her out so often. She understood, she didn’t judge, she listened and then she gave advice, good advice, meaningful advice. One of her hands went to my back, gently rubbing across the nooks and valleys along my back. The other hand reached to the nape of my neck, gently twisting and brushing out the hairs that laid at the beginning of my hairline. I lent into her touch, silently finding so much comfort in her actions.

“M’ sorry, sorry that I didn’t come to you earlier.”

“It’s okay kid, I understand, you were scared and you didn’t know who you could talk to about that. What’s important is you know now, you know that I am always here for when you need help and I expect you to come to me from now on, no more hiding and struggling in silence, okay?”

I nodded into Sam’s arms, just silently finding so much peace and solace in being held. I hadn’t been held in months, not since I’d been with Leah and the last few months with Leah had been hard to say the least. She’d done her ACL, and it wasn’t anybody's fault, I hadn’t been prepared for it though. Both Leah and I were going through rough patches and neither of us were prepared to look after another human being besides ourselves. There had been countless nights between the two of us spent crying and fighting with each other. It was rough, we’d worked through it though. It was hard though, and a part of me felt guilty for not being okay, and a part of me felt like Leah was going through so much worse than me and I could never burden her with my stupid problems.

“Now, I think it is definitely time that we get you tucked in and asleep, I won’t take any arguments, you look like you could sleep for days if you needed.”

I just nodded at Sam, any fight, any defiance that had been in my body was gone, I just didn’t have it in me. She was right, I was tired, I’d hardly slept the whole world cup. I was an insomniac, so that was to blame partially, partially I also just didn’t feel safe sleeping. Ellie was always on the phone with her girlfriend, when she wasn’t she was trying to talk to me or do yoga or something. She’d also been slaughtered in the press most of the tournament, it was messing with her, everyone could tell. Her techniques for combatting her anxiety about it though was annoying to say the least, being the younger one in the situation I didn’t have the confidence to tell her that her habits were fucking annoying to say the least.

I didn’t fight back as Sam gently laid me down on my bed, pulling the covers up over my body and very gently tucking me in.

“Have a good sleep, kid.”

She smiled at me and I smiled back.

“You too cap, thank you, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Sam patted me on the head, giving me her signature smirk.

“It’s no trouble, now get some sleep yeah, I need you to be coherent for tomorrow.”

I nodded along with Sam’s statement, watching as she got up off of my bed and walked towards the light switch, turning it off before jumping into her own bed. She rustled around in her sheets for a few minutes before finding her spot, a few minutes after the rustling ended I heard her breath slow and even out, indicating that she’d fallen asleep.

The situation was not the same for me, it took me a few hours to fall asleep and once I did I only slept for two hours, it was fitful sleep, very light and not very good. I laid in bed for a while before deciding around 5 that I was going to go for a run. I got up as quietly as I could, throwing on a pair of shorts and a sports bra. Once I’d gotten dressed I picked out my pair of running sneakers before creeping my way out of the hotel room and trying my very hardest to keep my steps silent as I walked down the hallway and into the elevators that took me down to the lobby. Our hotel was about 200 metres from the beach, so I made the decision I would take my morning run along the beach.

It was still dark out as I made my way out onto the main road and started my jog down to the water's edge. The sun probably wouldn’t rise before I came home. I planned to do about ten km, the beach was around 4 or so long so If I ran up and then down I would probably do about that. As soon as I got down to the waters edge I started to run properly.

Running had been one of my releases since I was 12. Whenever I was angry I went for a run, when I ran everything stopped. It was just me and the music that I had running through my headphones. It felt the same as I set my pace along the sand, like all of the fucking mayhem from the past twenty four hours was just mellowing out, becoming background noise. If I could always be running I would. The only time I ever felt like I was myself was when I was running. The feeling of your heart pounding against your chest, the feeling of your breath hurting in your throat and the dryness in your throat. As I ran the sun slowly started to rise, slowly climbing along the horizon. I made it about three quarters of the way before I ran into someone, one of the last people I wanted to be seeing.

For a second I wasn’t quite sure who it was, they were the only other person on the beach, standing along the shoreline. As I sprinted my way back to my starting spot the body slowly started to become bigger and the fear in my gut slowly grew. I couldn’t make out much more than their body, with the lack of lighting present in the room. As I slowly approached though, more features slowly started to become more recognisable and I silently screamed internally as I realised who exactly was.

As I approached them I slowed my pace, down to a slow jog, almost a walk. I slowly approached them and internally froze as they turned to face me. Fuck.

“It’s a nice morning.”

Lucy’s face was stone serious, and her words didn’t reflect the general attitude that she seemed to hold.

“So you're enjoying the motherland, then, the sunrises are unbeatable.”

“I’d be enjoying it more if I hadn’t been pulled out of my bed at 5am this morning to come and find you because Kerr texted Leah saying you’d disappeared and she didn’t know where to.”

“I’m allowed to go on a run.”

“You didn’t leave a note, after having what I’ve perceived as a fairly rough twenty four hours.”

“I don’t need the lecture.”

“La Reina wouldn’t have a bar of this attitude.”

“Alexia isn’t here.”

“It could be arranged, if I deem you in need of some attitude adjustment.”

I braced myself in front of Lucy, she was a scary woman. When I’d started in the WSL I’d originally been selected by Barcelona, then after half a season I’d been traded to Arsenal. I’d liked it at Barca, if I hadn't been traded I probably would have still been there, Barca was good, when I’d gotten there I had been a basket case, it had been what I’d needed. I was 17 at the time, and had no idea what I’d wanted, Barca had taught me how to wake up every morning and do something with life.

Lucy opened her arms up to me and I let myself fall into them, letting the older woman embrace me. Her arms were strong and they hugged me to her tightly, comfortingly, in the way that a mother would embrace their child. That was what Barca had given me, a good relationship with people that were like substitutes for my mom.

“It’s good to see you, Luce.”

“It’s good to see you as well kid, although I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances.”

She released me from her arms and sat herself down on the sand, nodding at me to sit down next to her. I followed suit, so we were both sitting on the sand, looking out at the sunrise.

“You’ve been doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“I don’t want to tell Ale that you’re lying to me as well.”

I crossed my arms across my chest in frustration, grumbling at Lucy.

“She’s not even my captain anymore.”

“She’s still the woman who took you under her wing, she’s your blood, mija.”

I pursed my lips and looked out at the horizon, the sun was truly rising now, the bright pink and oranges mixing into a tie dye across the sky.

“How’d you know I was going to be down here.”

“Just a hunch, I know how much you like your runs.”

“I wasn’t running away or anything, I just needed to think.”

One of Lucy’s arms fell over my shoulders, it was heavy but so soft at the same time.

“I know mi amor, you should have told someone where you were going though, especially considering the events of the last few hours, you worried a lot of people.”

“Leah told you?”

“She told me she was worried about you, that you had a lot on your plate right now, more than a 19 year old should be handling.”

I pursed my lips again, Lucy’s words were so pensive, so calculated but present at the same time. It was bizarre.

“I, just, this world cup, it was supposed to be the defining moment in my career, when I proved to everyone that I was as good, if not better than everyone else they were comparing me too. But I haven’t been performing, the press hates me, I just can’t catch a break.”

“Sounds like you need a sabbatical.”

I snorted a little bit at Lucy’s words.

“I’m serious, you know, after this, you should take some weeks off. Leah needs it as well, go somewhere, wherever your heart feels like you need to be and just live, or learn to live. Turn your phone off, eat as much as you want, exercise as little or as much as you want, just let yourself be happy, without everyone else, without football, without social media and other people. Learn to love yourself.”

I’d been handed so much emotional advice over the last few hours, it was a lot to absorb, a lot to think about.

“I miss La Reina, I miss Barca.”

“I know mi amor, but you have to be here, you have to be in London. It’s what you are destined to be doing, Ale and us all miss you but you are doing such good things where you are.”

“Your taking me back to the hotel, aren’t you?”

Lucy nodded at me sadly and I took one final deep breath before lifting myself off the sand and dusting any remnants of it off of my clothing. I helped Lucy up and then we both started to walk towards the beach exit.

“I’ll be there to watch you tomorrow, Kei, Leah and I. Play for us yeah? Make us proud.”

The walk back to the hotel was rather sullen, both Lucy and I staying fairly silent, her guiding me to the doors with a hand secured on my lower back. When we got to the door I gave her a hug before parting ways and stepping into the lobby. The team room was a little bit more alive then it had been when I’d walked through earlier in the morning. Kat, Harper, Charli and Ky were all awake, having breakfast together, as well as a few of the other veterans. I made my way through the lobby as quickly as I could, I couldn’t be bothered with talking to anyone.

When I did get back to my room, I was very surprised to find Sam, Steph, Haley and Alanna waiting for me. I was the first person to speak, slipping off my shoes next to the door and breaking the tension.

“Isn’t it a bit early for a mothers group meeting?”

#woso #woso community #sam kerr #sam kerr imagine #matildas x reader #matildas #matildas imagine #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #lucy bronze #steph catley #ellie carpenter #sam kerr being protective #older sister sammy k #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #little bit sad #self h@rm #pain #i’m sad

[deathlydeathovo]

ik i'm kinda late but wanted to share this 😔😔

when baizhu you sees you sitting in a bad position with your back hunched he says nothing walks over to you pulls your shoulders back, pushes your spine forward and fixes your posture without saying anything then walking away like nothing happened

LMAO WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY

"Lemme just.."

"Wtf was that?"

"Was what?"

"..Nvm."

LMAOAAOOOAOA

#x reader #fluff #angst #genshin impact #genshin #slight angst #genshin x reader #baizhu #baizhu x reader #self h@rm #self care #genshin impact self aware #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin liyue #genshin impact liyue #liyue harbor #liyue characters #liyue

[girls-alias]

Mental - Dean Winchester

Title: Mental - Dean Winchester

Words: 1,169

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Mental health, mental breakdown, SH.

Prompt:

Saw a TikTok edit of Dean and it inspired me.

I excused myself from the table as I hurried to stand. I didn't look at Sam and Dean before I left the room. I was slightly hyperventilating but once I rushed to my room I couldn't breathe. I practically threw myself into the back of the door. Needing it closed and need privacy. I slid down the door trying to control my breathing, to bring air into my lungs but the panic attack didn't end.

How could Dean like me? I'm a mess, I'm crazy.

Nothing has even gone wrong and I'm still miserable. I should be happy, it's a day off, and I should be enjoying quiet time with Sam and Dean.

Dean doesn't like me. He just confessed it to find a way to let me down slowly.

I shouldn't have told him about my crush, I should have just hidden it like I have done all year.

He is so out of your league. He'd never like you. Remember when he would check out other girls, he doesn't like you,

Oh, my God. I'm an idiot.

My mouth was dry from breathing so heavily, I wanted to gulp to try and gain some control over my own body but it wasn't working. My vision seemed to be clouded by dark spots. I knew there was only one way to gain some control but I cried as I thought about it.

I feel like my only solution right now is to self-harm, I need to get control of myself. I'm acting manic. I have been clean for 78 days. I'm doing so well. I can't break that now. It took me years to get that far.

I cried as I crawled to my display knife that sat on my desk. It was a real knife, sharp enough to cut paper easily but it was only ever decorative. I pulled it from the stand. Resting my back against the drawers I brought my knees up close to my chest. I put my arm facing me in the divet between my legs. The tears evacuated my eyes as if an alarm was ringing.

"Y/N," Dean's voice called through the shut door, worry lacing his tone. "Are you okay?" He asked, worry more evident. I slowly put the knife down not wanting him to hear it. I cleared my throat softly.

"Yeah, why?" I asked but instantly winced as I knew I would never normally say that and Dean might recognise that.

"You just ran off," He explained not seeming to hear my error.

"Yeah, I just needed the bathroom," I lied. I waited anxiously in those few seconds it took Dean to reply. The door isn't locked, I hadn't thought of that. I gulped watching the handle afraid in case he came in and saw me. I don't want to think of how upset Dean might be.

"Oh, are you sure you're okay? You sound a little weird," He explained, his voice a little cheerier but suspicious.

"Gee, thanks Dean," I played it off. Smiling as Dean chuckled seemingly happy with my response.

"Okay, well come back when you're done," Dean explained, I listened to his steps as he walked away. I sighed with relief and sorrow. My tears quickly resuming. A part of me wanted him to come in, to save me but I was too scared to say anything.

I buried my hand into my sleeve, bringing it to my mouth to quietly sob into it. I screamed as the door swung open forcefully. I looked up to see Dean had burst into my door, eyes on me instantly. He looked completely startled, maybe even scared. I didn't have time to compose myself before Dean was crouching beside me. He held my hand, sneaking a glance at my wrist before his eyes dived deep into mine.

"What's going on?" He asked softly. I sighed, not caring to try and compose myself. I look like a mess anyway.

"You shouldn't have lied to me. You should have just turned me down," I sobbed as he moved closer, His hand on the back of my head bringing me closer to him so I could cry onto his chest, comforting me as he stroked my hair.

"I didn't lie to you, baby," He's never used a pet name for me before. He's just feeling sorry for me. "I do like you, I've always liked you. From the second you walked out the room when we first met I told Sam, I wanted you," He explained but I shook my head as I sobbed.

"You're just saying that because I did this," I stated as I lifted my arm.

"No, baby. No, I've liked you from the second I met you. I was too scared to say anything because I didn't think you'd like me," He explained as he hugged me a little tighter. "I want to be yours," He added. I sobbed, sitting up as I shook my head to look at him.

"You're too hot for me," I exclaimed but Dean shook his head. I could almost see hearts in his eyes as he looked at me.

"I want to be yours," He repeated. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him.

"I'm emotionally unstable," I argued but he smiled softly.

"I want to be yours," He repeated once again. I shook my head.

"Dean, -"

"I want to be yours," He interrupted. He placed his hand on my cheek, his eyes peering into my soul. Like earlier, all the air seemed to leave my lungs but this time I knew it was coming back. "I want to be yours," Dean commented before leaning in to connect our lips. My brain frazzled as I realised Dean was kissing me, we'd never kissed before. This is a bit far if he was lying. He has to be telling the truth. I should believe him.

I kissed him back, my hand coming up to the back of his neck as our lips moved in sync. His tongue graced my bottom lip. I allowed his access as our tongues met in the middle, dancing around each other. I could taste his morning coffee. He smiled against my lips as he continued to kiss me. I melted into his arms.

He slowly pulled away. I couldn't stop the smile on my face from spreading as I saw the joy on his face.

"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up and I'll take you on the date I've been planning all day," He explained cheerfully. I chuckled softly as he stood up. I tried my tears, looking up to see Dean offering to help me up. I smiled as I accepted his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. He took the opportunity to kiss me again. A shorter but passionate kiss. "I want you to wear something cute," He explained playfully as he led me to the bathroom. I smiled knowing now that Dean likes me and I am enough for him.

Masterlist

Working On

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean #dean winchester fic #spn fanfic #spn #mental health #self h@rm

[violentnewmarley]

hiii <3 ! can you write where it’s tokio hotel x reader but like separately… ( YK ????) 😭😭😭 anyways where the reader pulls their hair or scratches themselves when their stressed or sad ? and then they comfort the reader and calm them down ? ….. i hope this made sense i’m sorry pookie 😞😞.

By Your Side.

Tokio Hotel (2000’s) x Gn!reader<3 (Angst?)

YES OFC BABE! But I thought that I should make these HCs more indistinct so they are Basically just general s/h and Comfort but I hope you don’t mind! ALSO. me and my bbg lo kept coming up with really funny ideas to so I had to include those as well😔💔 the silly ones are all purple.

lo -> (my pookie bear) tysm @bbvoxstar ^_^ 💟💟💟

Warnings/Content: mentions of s/h.

• How each member of Tokio Hotel would comfort you after finding out about your Bad coping skills 😓

Tom

• At first he would get mad for not really knowing what to do.

• maybe some trust issues at first.

• but eventually he would be really understanding and try to help.

• Idk why but i think he would be really chill about it.

• lots of physical affection and silliness to try and distract you.

• Would be really defensive over you if someone were to point out or make fun of your scars (or any type of mark you would get from something)

• He would attempt at braiding your hair to keep you distracted because you kept pulling at it. but he ends up putting it into a knot and he calls Bill up (cause bills a female🥰) and Toms like "HELP OMG" so Bill unknots that shit 😙 Basically its just so funny that your not stressed anymore LOL.

Gustav

• I don't think that he would pick up on it super easily so he would be a bit confused when he first finds out.

• Hes very protective of you already, but he would become even more.

• He would make you watch silly movies together to try and cheer you up.

• Would let you play with his hair (he usually swats your hand away 😒)

• Gustav DEFINITELY likes Madagascar. yall watch Madagascar and he doesnt stop qouting the zebra 💔

Bill

• He would likely pick up on your behavior by himself, so he would end up talking to you to make sure you're alright.

• If he caught you in an act I think he would try to talk you through/out of it.

• Listens well and pays close attention to what you say. He would take it serously and try his best to make sure you trust him

• Would let you cry in his arms fr :(

• Would help you put on bandaids and kiss them😔 (I know That sounds really cringe but you know that you can picture it happening)

• He would be extra touchy and loving to try and comfort you when he knew you needed it to try and keep you from hurting yourself more in the future <3

• Gives you an emo makeover so you can look the part😍

• Writes a song about it :3

Georg

• I feel like if Georg ever saw you pull your hair he would think your on crack but then realize your sad and feel bad. 😓

•Hold your hands

• Speaks really soft and quiet when talking to you

• He’s very reassuring and always reminds you about how much he loves you. (he just gives those vibes yk)

• Checks up on you a lot, sometimes he makes time to do so, and when he can’t he texts you a lot.

y’all I am so sorry if the silly ones are out of pocket we couldn’t help ourselves😭 But srsly if any of you are ever struggling with these sorts of things I understand and am always here to talk 😘

💟 @fishinaband @nyxwritesshit @mikalame @bbvoxstar

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #pop rock #tom kaulitz #y2k goth #kaulitz twins #pop punk #y2k #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz fluff #2000s emo #tw s/h #self h@rm #billkaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz fanfic #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schafer smut #fluff #comfort #emo kid #y2k emo #alt fashion #rock music #violentnewmarley #georglisting #georg listing

[flowerbedbaby]

Ok so maybeee this is just me being depressed and insecure, and slightly obsessing over specific men, but I need a fic about citizen reader just feeling so emotionally drained and insecure about her body, scars and everything in general, so when simon gets home from deployment he's so confused why she's acting weird and distracted, but he's tired from being away for months on end, so this leads to reader feeling guilty and even more insecure

(I'm so sorry, I didn't know how to shorten the explanation 💀)

#cod headcanons #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod ghost #cod imagine #simon riley #call of duty #comfort #self h@rm #feeling insecure

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Emily x Reader after Reader has a sh relapse, Emily patches and her up and assures her she's still beautiful by slow, gentle, loving sex and lots of cuddling please?

You got it, anon! Thanks for the request! :) Hope you like it!

Burning

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, self-harm, depression, mental illness, sex, fingering, etc., injuries due to self-harm, brief mentions of an eating disorder, some explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: With Emily away on a case and a depressive episode hitting you hard, you fall back into a pattern you thought you'd kicked a long time ago. When she comes home and discovers what you've done, you're afraid it'll be too much for her. Emily does her best to show you that it's not.

You’d been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours, but was probably mere minutes. Time warped itself when the urges took hold, every second a lifetime of effort, until it became all the potential lives you might live stacked one on top of the other, and they were too heavy for you to carry.

The hand that held the unlit match was shaking, and you seesawed between the unbearable desire to scratch a painful itch and the knowledge that self-hatred that would flood you afterward. But at least the self-hatred and the pain would be something to feel, other than the abject hopelessness that had seemed to swallow you up over the last week.

You’d known a depressive episode was coming before Emily left. You could always feel them coming. But what were you supposed to say? Don’t go save people from a terrorist cell? Stay here with me because I’m scared I’m getting depressed and I need you? It’d be pathetic. You were pathetic. And it wasn’t Emily’s job to keep your mental illness at bay.

But she’d been gone longer than you expected–over a week now. And your depressive episode had hit you harder than you thought it would. You’d called out of work, you’d binged on food delivery, then hated yourself afterward, staring into the mirror feeling lower and lower and lower. Until the only way you could think to stop sinking was to shock yourself out of it.

You knew it wasn’t wise or healthy. You knew you’d feel even worse once the pain subsided. You knew that a relapse would make it that much harder to stop next time. You knew that if Emily was here, she would stop you, she would hide the matches and the lighters, she would be so, so sad that you’d even thought about hurting yourself.

But despite knowing all these things, the hunger for fire, for pain, was too much to resist. You scratched the head of the match against the matchbox and the flame leapt into existence. Your go-to spot in young adulthood had been your arms, but the burns wouldn't fade before Emily got back, and she’d notice them on your arms. This time, you held the match to the upper side of your abdomen, where your arms would hopefully hide the marks.

You scrunched your eyebrows and winced as the flame licked at your skin, the pain white and bright and hot. You wished you could explain to people that odd, addictive mixture of self-loathing and dopamine that hit you and made you feel simultaneously worse and better. You wished people understood the desire for it, that sometimes you wanted to feel worse because feeling worse made you feel better. But it was hard to explain. Even harder to understand. So you didn’t bother most of the time. You lit match after match until the box was empty, until your side was scattered with raised, red-white blotches, like a constellation of all the shitty things you’d ever been through or felt.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and hated what you saw. And it felt good to hate yourself, like a guilty pleasure.

You jumped at the sound of the apartment door opening and closing, and cold panic flooded your system.

“Hey, baby, I’m home!” Emily called from the entryway.

You quickly pulled a loose t-shirt over your head, wincing as the fabric brushed over the burns. She wasn’t supposed to be home yet. She hadn’t texted or called. She’ll hate me, you thought. She’ll hate me if she finds out.

Of course, Emily knew you struggled with self-harm. But you’d been in a really good spot when you’d started dating and had, for the most part, stayed in that really good spot for your entire relationship. You were in therapy. You had healthy coping mechanisms. You hadn’t relapsed in years. You didn’t know what had made today different from every other bad day in the last few years, but you knew you didn’t want Emily to know.

You silently cursed yourself for using all the matches; there were none left to light a candle in the bathroom to mask the scent of burning. You ran to meet her in the living room, hoping that by heading her off, the smell would have time to dissipate.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted her, forcing a smile. You took both her hands in yours to try and prevent her touching your side, which still felt as if it was on fire. You stood on tiptoes to kiss her, and she smiled, leaning in.

“I missed you,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around you. You flinched and inhaled sharply as her fingers grazed the burns.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, avoiding her eyes. “I just, um… fell earlier.”

Her hands fluttered over you, a worried expression on her face. “You fell!? Where!? Like, how hard?”

“Not that hard,” you said, trying to squirm away. “It doesn’t hurt too bad. Ow!” Emily had placed a gentle hand at your side and you couldn’t help your outburst.

“Well, honey, if it hurts that bad, you need to let me see it. We might need to go to the ER or something.”

You knew you were done for when she grabbed your wrist, hard. Emily was much stronger than you, so instead of fighting, you went numb.

You felt your whole world stop as she lifted up your shirt to see the scattered burns. You felt tears prick at your eyes. There were too many marks, and they were too symmetrical to have been an accident. You knew it, and Emily knew it, too.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that her eyes were wet with tears she wasn’t going to let herself cry because you needed someone strong right now. If you’d looked at her, you would have seen a mixture of sadness and pity and heartbreak and undying love. You’d have seen the face of someone who wanted nothing more than for you to be okay.

“Y/N,” Emily managed after a moment. “Did you do this to yourself?”

You nodded, a tear rolling down your cheek.

“Today?”

You nodded again.

“How long ago?”

You looked at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry. “Right before you walked in.”

You hated yourself. You hated yourself even more because you knew that Emily would feel awful. She’d think that if she’d just been a few minutes earlier, she could have prevented this. And you never wanted Emily to feel like your mental illness was her fault or her responsibility.

“Come here,” she said, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure the water was cool but not cold, then slowly pulled your clothes off. She nodded toward the shower and you got in, shivering under the chilly stream.

Emily sighed and sat down on the toilet lid, watching you. She looked tired, so tired. You hated to be another thing that exhausted her, another thing she had to take care of and fix.

“You should sit down,” she added quietly. “You’re gonna have to be in there for a while. Until they stop burning.”

You sat on the tiled floor, the water leaching the pain away from the burn marks, leaving only disgust and self-loathing in their place. You pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face, trying and failing not to cry.

Your shoulders shook with the force of your sobs. You heard Emily stand and were sure she was going to leave. Why wouldn’t she? She deserved to. She deserved not to have to deal with you.

You jumped a little as Emily lowered herself into the shower next to you, clothes abandoned on the bathroom floor, and wrapped her arm around your shoulder. She pressed her face into yours as the shower drenched you both.

“Shh,” she soothed, careful to avoid your burns. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Em,” you wept, rocking. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “You don’t need to be sorry. I love you. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I hate myself,” you whispered.

Emily gently grabbed your face and tilted it toward her. There were tears in her eyes, too. “Baby, please don’t say that.”

“I can’t help it.” Your voice was so quiet, so small, the sound of the shower almost drowned it out.

“That’s okay,” Emily said, brushing strands of wet hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get you some help, okay?”

You looked in her eyes then for the first time since she’d discovered the burn marks. You didn’t know what you’d expected to see: annoyance, disgust, hatred, or worst of all, ambivalence. But there was none of that in Emily’s eyes. Only love and concern.

Even so, you were scared to ask what you needed to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, honey, of course I do. I could never stop loving you.”

And then you kissed her. You kissed her with the cool water pouring down around your bodies. With your skin hot from the burns and from your aching love for Emily. You kissed her desperately, hungrily, like someone clinging to a lifeboat, and Emily was. She was your lifeboat. And for Emily’s part, she was gentle, almost too gentle, as if you might break at any moment.

You wrapped your legs and arms around her and she held you so carefully, so mindful of your burns. You shuddered in the cool water as your hips pushed against her.

Emily moaned into your mouth, her hands faltering for a moment.

“Y/N,” she said breathlessly, pulling away to hold your face in her hands. “We don’t have to do this." She looked at you a moment longer, then added, "I love you.”

You kissed her again. Her mouth. Her forehead. Her collarbone. Emily’s chest heaved into you and your heart beat rapidly.

“Please,” you begged. “Show me.”

Emily pulled you into her, letting her tongue and her lips roam over your neck, letting her hips meet yours as the water surrounded you, soothing your burns the way Emily soothed the roiling, burning despair inside of you.

“I love you,” she whispered as she kissed your eyelids. “I love you,” she whispered as she pressed her hands into the soft flesh of your ass. “I love you,” she whispered as she slipped her fingers inside of you. You bit back a moan and trembled against her, your body pulsing around her.

She fucked you slowly, tenderly, as if it was both your first time and your last, though this was neither. And she kept saying it–“I love you”–again and again, never stopping, so that all the darkness in your mind, all the self-doubt, didn’t have any room to make itself heard.

You let out a strangled groan as your body tensed around her, and when your pleasure flooded you, it was like you were on fire. And this fire was so much better, louder, brighter, than any flame you’d ever held to your body. It was a burning that consumed you, one that would leave you new and glistening afterward instead of scarred and in ashes.

You fell limp against her as she removed her fingers, kissing your forehead, your collarbone, your mouth, swirling her tongue with yours until you felt drunk on her. “I love you,” she said, and you didn’t think you’d ever get tired of hearing it. “I love you.”

You were quiet as she turned off the shower head. Quiet as you both dried off, as Emily gently pressed a towel to your side, making sure your burns were clean and dry. She sat you on the toilet lid as she pulled gauze squares and antibacterial ointment out of the bathroom cabinet, spreading the ointment on the gauze, then pressing it gently to your skin.

“Lift your arms up,” she said quietly, as she circled your body with bandages, wrapping it just tight enough that it wouldn’t shift in the night.

She knelt down in front of you and caressed your face. “Bed?” she asked. You nodded.

“You go ahead,” she said, patting your leg. “I’ll be right there.”

You felt self-doubt start creeping back in as you laid in bed on top of the covers, your burns still too hot to sleep underneath. When Emily came into the room, she carried a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

“Take these,” she told you, handing you a few. You drank and swallowed obediently.

She lay down in the bed and motioned you over. “Come here and let me hold you.”

You rested your face in the crook of her neck, and she played with your hair, careful to avoid your burns.

“I love you,” she whispered after a few minutes, kissing the top of your head.

“You said.” You meant it to be funny, but your heart wasn’t in it. Not yet.

“And I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.”

You were quiet for a minute, then spoke. “I love you, too, Em.” You nuzzled your way closer to her, hoping against hope that her arms around you were enough to keep the darkness and the numbness away for the night.,

And as you drifted off, she kept saying it–“I love you.” And then a kiss on your head.

As your eyelids fluttered closed–“I love you.” And she pressed her face to your forehead.

As your breath slowed and evened, and your body went limp–“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss drabble #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #hurt/comfort #self h@rm

[call-me-a-simp]

I'll always be here for you!

Rhea Ripley X Fem Reader Oneshot

Summary: You're at an amusement park with your girlfriend Rhea and decide to join her on a horror roller-coaster. Although you're easily scared you think it can't be that bad. Well you were wrong and a long night full of problems is waiting for you..

Tw: social anxiety, panic attack, selfharm, crying, screaming/shouting, blood, fear of loosing someone

"You okay?" Your girlfriend asks you, looking a little concerned. "You haven't said anything since we're waiting in line here"

You were at an amusement park and currently waiting in line for a crazy horror roller coaster.

You nod slightly and continue starring at the floor and picking at the skin around your nails. Rhea notices and takes your hands in hers, trying to stop you from hurting yourself any further.

You try to pull your hands away from her but she doesn't let go. "Let go, please!" You complain quietly. "Only if you stop picking at your skin. I don't want you to bleed again." Rhea says in a soft voice and loosens her grip. You sigh and let your hands slip out of hers

"I'm sorry, it's just my social anxiety again, sorry for ruining this" you mumble. "Oh no you didn't ruin anything baby!" Rhea reassures you, and pulls you close to give you a little kiss on your temple. You smile to yourself. *What in the world did I do to deserve this girl* you think.

The gates open and you're allowed to pick your seats on the roller coaster. The two of you managed to get the two places in the very front. You know how much your girlfriend loves horror and although you don't, you join the ride because you want to make her happy.

The ride starts and you immediately regret getting in. You're easily scared and there are so many jumpscares and other stuff that just freak you out. At the end you are crying and hyperventilating. Rhea helps you get out and tries to calm you but you break down into a panic attack.

"I'm so sorry darling, I- you didn't have to- oh I'm so sorry" she stumbles over her words and hugs tight. She holds you for a while, not bothering about the weird looks from strangers that are passing by.

After a few minutes your heavy crying and shaking slowly subsides and Rhea slightly pulls away to look at you. She cups your cheek, wiping away the tears with her thumb. "Let's get home" she whispers and helps you get up.

Wrapping your hands around her neck you bury your head in her shoulder, still sobbing. Rhea picks you up and you wrap your legs around her waist. She then easily carries you all the way to the car.

Once in the car Rhea softly asks you:"Was that a panic attack?" and you nod. The drive home was silent, your girlfriend kept her hand on you thigh the entire time, stroking it with her thumb or tracing patterns with her fingers to calm you down some more.

About an hour later you're home. It's already 7:30 pm. Rhea offers you the best princess treatment, carring you inside bridal style and running you a hot bath to relax, while cooking your favorite meal.

After eating she helps you undress so you could take your bath. "..can you stay with me? I don't want to be alone right now" you ask her, holding her by her hand as she was about to leave. Rhea turns back around with a warm smile "of course i can baby, I'd do anything for you!" She sits down next to the bath tub, holding your hand.

The room is silent for some time, but it's a comfortable silence. In fact, some of your favorite memories with your girlfriend are moments like these, where you just sit together and cuddle in silence or watch a movie.

"What's going on inside your beautiful, little head right now, hm?" Rhea whispers. She'd been stroking your hand with her thumb for the past few minutes, lost in her thoughts. "I don't know, just been thinking about what happened at the park.." you mumble in response.

"Hey if it's because you think you ruined something then no, you absolutely did not!" Rhea says and turns to look at you. She cups your cheek again and strokes it with her thumb. You lean into her touch and close your eyes. "It's hard to believe although I know you would never lie to me" you finally respond. You then chuckle to yourself, thinking how stupid this must sound to your girlfriend.

Rhea offers you an understanding smile. "Let's get ready for bed. We could turn on your favorite movie, what do you think?" She suggests. You nod, "I'd love that!" You smile back at her. She helps you get up and out of the slippery bath tub before grabbing a towel for you to dry off.

"Be right back" she says and hurries off in the direction of your bedroom.She returns with your favorite fluffy blanket and wraps you in it, including your arms so you can't move any anymore. "Burritobaby" she giggles. She's holding you tight from behind to keep the blanket from falling. "You idiot" you laugh and try to wiggle free. "You don't have a chance against me" Rhea jokes and picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom.

"Hey, you forgot my Pyjamas" you cackle. "Don't need your pjs, they're just another useless layer of fabric on your beautiful body" Rhea states and grins.She drops you on the bed before getting in herself.

"I love you just the way you are, burrito" she mocks you lovingly and kisses your cheek. You finally managed to free your hands and punch her jokingly. You both giggle until Rhea turns to grab the tv remote.

"Can we watch 'Finding Nemo' ?" You ask hopefully. "Sure we can" Rhea shrugs. "If it helps you then I'm open for anything" she smirks and kisses you softly.

The movie begins and your partner holds her arms open for you to snuggle up to her. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep in her comfortable embrace that makes you feel so safe and at peace.

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

It's about half past two in the morning as you wake up from a bad nightmare. You're crying, shaking, but you didn't dare to wake your girlfriend. She was in desperate need of sleep due to travelling so much in her businesses and watching her lay there so peacefully, you didn't want to take that from her.

Trying to muffle your cries you press your hand over your mouth as you sneak into the bathroom. You're feeling uncomfortable still being naked so you quickly grab your pajamas and put them on. They're just shorts and a t-shirt but better than nothing.

Giving the door behind you a little push in order to close it, you walk over to the sink. Your vision is blurry and you're so focused on being quiet that you don't notice the door not fully closing.

You hastily open the first drawer. With shaking hands you look for the extra blades of your razor. There not there. *shit where did I put them??* your mind is racing. You're panicking. "Fuck!" You cry out and immediately curse yourself afterwards for not keeping quiet. *Great, now I woke Rhea* you think.

Opening the second drawer you don't even bother too much anymore with being quiet, thinking your girlfriend is awake now anyway. Rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes you manage to wipe away some tears to get a clearer vision.

Finding the blades you were looking for you try to take one out quickly, but struggle with your shaking hands. You finally get one out and start using it to cut your upper thigh. You're hoping for some kind of relief from all these bad feelings and thoughts and in the past it worked, but only for a few minutes.

Rhea knew about your past, and now you remember the promise you gave her. You promised her to try and talk to her first before taking matters into your own hands.You only cry harder, now that you know you broke your promise.

You didn't deserve her. She didn't deserve you, she deserved someone that she could do anything with, someone that would keep their promises and would be able to focus more on her instead of always being afraid of their own actions. Your mind fools you, just making it worse and worse.

You're kneeling on the floor, blood and tears streaming down your face and thighs and staining the rug in front of the sink. You're crying so hard you don't notice the person standing in the doorway.

Rhea was shocked to see you like this, she never once thought that the ride in the horror roller coaster would traumatise you so much. "Y/n?" She whispers and you flinch in surprise.

"God baby why didn't you wake me? We could have talked, I could have helped you" her voice is full of sorrow. She was blaming herself. Rhea slowly makes her way over to you, wanting to kneel besides you, hug you, take the blade from you. Anything to stop you from hurting yourself.

"Go away" you sob and your hand that's holding the blade begins to shake again as it's gripping it so hard. "Y/n, baby.." Rhea mumbles and reaches out to touch your shoulder.

"Go away, don't touch me" you repeat quietly. But Rhea doesn't hear you, or she does but decides to ignore it. Her fingers slightly graze you skin at that's when everything get's too much.

"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME RHEA!" you yell at her and jump up. Your girlfriend looks at you, mouth agape and eyes wide with shock. You never screamed at her before, not like that.

She slowly gets to her feet and tries to reach out to you once again. "Y/n hey, let's talk about this. I'm sure we can-" but you cut her off.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" You yell and throw the next best thing you could grab at her. A bar of soap that was lying on the sink. Rhea stumbles back but it hits her right above her left eye. Tears form in her eyes. She's crying.

You break down again. What have you done. You're sure you've lost her now, surely she's gonna leave you after this. "I- I'm so sorry! I- I just can't handle this anymore I don't know what to do" you cry out.

"Come here" Rhea whispers sobbing. You hesitate a moment but then agree and take a small step towards her. A sigh of relief leaves Rhea's lips and she immediately rushes towards you and hugs you tight. You accept it and even hug her back.

You're standing there for at least a few minutes, just holding onto each other and sobbing. "It's okay darling, it's okay I've got you, I'll always be here for you!" Rhea whispers against your skin in the crook of your neck.

"I love you so much!" You sob in her shirt and cling onto her even tighter. "I love you too!" She murmurs back and kisses your neck. "And as much as I hate to let go of you now but we need to clean those wounds" she sighs.

You grumble, but you know it's necessary. You've already stained most of the small rug and since it's a white one it'll probably never wash out again. You slowly let go of each other.

"Sit down on the edge of the bath tub okay? I'll take care of you" Rhea says and let her hand glide down your arm as she turns to get her first aid kit. You do as she tells you to and wait patiently.

It's embarrassing, but on the other hand you truly feel safe and taken care of now. You feel loved but also guilty.

Your girlfriend stops the bleeding, disinfects everything and then bandages you. "You better now?" She asks with a warm smile. You smile back at her and nod. "Thank you! I really don't know what I'd do without you. Probably wouldn't even be here anymore.." you mumble the last part but she still hears you.

"Well, I'm glad you're here and many more surely are too!" She tries to convince you. You only nod again, keeping your eyes locked on the ground. "It's 4am now" Rhea says with a look at the watch. "We should get back to bed". She takes your hand and you stand up sighing.

Back in bed you snuggle really close to her, loving the warmth and the feeling of her skin against yours. "Thanks for making me feel loved" you whisper. "I'll do my best to keep that feeling" she replies and although neither of you can see it, you both fall back asleep with a smile on your face.

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Alright, got a new oneshot done. Hope you enjoy :D

#wrestling #demi bennett #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wwe x reader #gxg scenarios #the judgement day wwe #gxg #rhea ripley fluff #wwe fanfiction #wwe superstars #wwe #gxg fluff #gxg imagine #self h@rm #anxienty #social anxiety #horror #rollercoaster #panic attack