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ravenslvt · 2 months

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fucking your ex boyfriend in the bathroom of a party.

☆ multiple x f!reader ☆

cw: smut, mirror sex, public sex, rough sex, hate sex (sort of), tension, alcohol, oral f! receiving, v fingering, spanking, pet names, praise, sex with feelings, unprotected sex

you don’t know how your bestfriend managed to rope you into coming to this party, all you did know is you wanted to get plastered while she found someone to hook up with.

you held onto her for dear life as you made your way through groups of people. mostly strangers, but you saw some familiar faces. you started to feel a bit nervous when you noticed some eyes roaming your outfit. maybe you should’ve worn a longer skirt…

your bestfriend’s eyes immediately spotted a pretty girl across the room, she gives you an apologetic smile. you roll your eyes.

“just go” you sigh. at least someone would be getting some action tonight. you make your way to the kitchen where there were bottles apon bottles layed out on the counter. you grab one of the disposable cups, pouring yourself a mixed drink before downing it. the liquor bringing a comforting burn down your throat.

suddenly, you felt a cold chill in the room. you look around, there were no windows or doors open. until finally, your eyes immediately draw to a pair of familiar ones. oh great, he’s walking over. you turn around, pretending you didn’t notice him, hoping he’ll walk past you.

“oh, c’mon. acting like you didn’t see me?” he leans against the counter next to you, a drink in his own hand. fuck, he still wore the same cologne. the smell almost made you dizzy. he was wearing an unfamiliar jacket, it looked new.

his name rolls off your tounge in a harsh greeting, taking another swig of your drink. he gives a lopsided smile. “still mad at me, pretty?” he takes your empty cup, refilling it for you the way he knew you always liked it. you give him a glare. he puts his arms up in defense. his body looked bigger, more defined. he was clearly working out more since you two broke up.

you snatched your cup back. if you were going to be forced into this conversation, you might as well be drunk.

“why are you here?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his own. he was drawing you in without even trying.

“i was invited. why are you here?” he pokes your shoulder with his pointer finger.

you just point to your best friend across the room, who was now making out with the cute girl from earlier. he huffs out a small chuckle. “that girl never rests, does she.” he comments. you just shake your head, “no she does not.” you sigh, another swig.

his eyes go back to you. more specifically, your outfit. you had a new top on, he’d never seen it before. he’d have remembered seeing such a pretty shirt on you before. and of course, you wore your favorite mini skirt. the one he always loved you wearing.

“this is cute, wear this for me hmm?” he smirks, his fingers playing with the bottom hem of the skirt. you swat his hand. he was the one who bought it for you. almost fucking you in the dressing room when you tried it on after doing a little spin for him.

“no… i just had nothing else to wear.” your face flushes. you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from the fact you were both thinking about the times you’d sit on his lap in this skirt, panties off while you bounced on his cock.

god, he loved that skirt.

you could feel yourself clench around nothing just thinking about it. he gets a little closer when he notices your flushed state, his fingers drumming against the table filled with alcohol. his damned fingers that knew every part of your body.

ok, you were definitely a little drunk, or maybe you were just stupid.

your back slams against the door of the bathroom, the blasting music muffled from the small enclosed room.

your lips met in a hungry, bruising kiss, tongues fighting for dominance. his large hands gripped your waist, your head forced against the wood. he moves one of his hands to shove between your thighs under your skirt, his fingers digging into your panties, making you whine into his mouth when he pinches your clit.

“fuck, this wet already? missed me that much, sweetheart?” he mumbles into your mouth, pulling away to pull the flimsy fabric down your legs with his free hand. of course you wore your favorite panties, the ones he bought especially for you. the sight made him groan.

“i’m not your-“

“i wasn’t talking to you.” he stares directly at your slick pussy. great, now he was talking straight to your cunt.

you look at him with glossy eyes as he kneels down, kissing down your thighs. you hook your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, but he gives your thigh a slap. “keep it on. i wanna see you get fucked in this pretty little skirt again.” he practically growls as he gives your thighs a few more kisses and bites, marking you up.

“want everyone to see you still belong to me.” he sucks marks into your upper thighs, placing a few where your little skirt couldn’t cover.

you mewl his name when his tounge delves into your sopping pussy, his fingers pulling your folds apart to get more access. your hands grip his hair for some stability as he laps you, his tounge switching from flicking your sensitive clit to prodding at your tight hole.

he replaces his mouth with his fingers, pumping two into your cunt as he suctions his lips onto your bud, making you bite your lip to prevent yourself from screaming out, almost drawing blood.

“fuckk!” his long fingers hit deep inside of you, his digits shifting between thrusts and curling inside. your legs shook, hands gripping his hair for dear life. giving him a particularly hard tug, he groans into your cunt, the vibrations making you let out a moan.

the mixture of stimulations had you on the edge, he knew you were about to cum.

time almost seems to slow as he feels you clench around his fingers, your eyes flutter shut, gripping his hair for dear life as pools of fire seep low in your abdomen. his fingers continue to pump into you as you cum, wetness dripping down his chin and wrist.

it was probably obvious you hadn’t fucked anyone since you two broke up the way your pussy responded so well to him.

still, he doesn’t pull away, addicted to the taste of you. he was completely lost in your cunt until you pushed at his head, whining his name. he reluctantly pulls away, giving your cute clit a few more kisses before parting.

you both pant, his face glistening in your slick. you almost moan at the sight.

“you taste even better than i remember, baby.” his hands sooth down your thighs.

“don’t call me that.” you heavily breathe. he just chuckles, standing up. his firm hands grab your ass, giving it a firm smack, making you yelp.

“face the mirror. wanna watch you take my dick.” he pats your hip, encouraging you. you obligated, finally seeing yourself in the mirror. your lip gloss was completely smeared, making you pout a little. until your ex boyfriend comes up behind you, his hard on pressing against your ass. his hand wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder as your eyes meet in the reflection.

his other hand reaches to wipe the smeared lip gloss, cleaning it up for you. his fingers tap your lips impatiently, seeking enterence. your eyes never broke contact. you open your pretty little mouth, his two fingers sliding in. you groaned as you tasted yourself on them. he grinded himself against your rear, hiking your skirt above your hips.

“gonna let me fuck this messy pussy?” his fingers enter deeper into your mouth, almost making you choke. you nod, swirling your tounge around his digets.

“mhmph” you mumble around them.

“gotta tell me how much you missed me first.” he teases, removing his fingers to slowly undo the button of his pants. you roll your eyes.

“just fuck me-“

smack

your ass stings, you were sure there was gonna be a red mark the size of his hand. you whimper.

“what was that, pretty? use your words.” he purred into your ear, biting your earlobe gently, nibbling marks down your sensitive neck.

“fuck, i missed you so much, i need your cock so bad-“ you whine his name. “-i touch myself thinking about it- but nothing is as good as you.” you shamelessly confess, a smirk growing on his smug fucking face.

“good fucking girl.” he growls, taking his raging cock out from his briefs, his hand pressing down on your back so you bend over the sink to give him easier access.

you mewled as his leaking tip pokes through your enterence.

he slowly sheathes himself in, savoring the feeling of your hot walls contracting needfully around his cock. “god, it’s been so fucking long. it’s like she’s sucking me in.”

your fingers gripped the counter in front of you, your eyes focusing on his own. the way his face scrunched once he was burried balls deep inside of you. his deep breaths, the way his hair slightly stuck to his forehead from how much he was sweating.

you’re about to speak, but your words turn into moans of his name as he thrusts in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. your head rolls down to rest against your arms on the counter, but he doesn’t allow that.

his hand that isn’t wrapped around your waist goes to grip your throat, pulling you back against his chest.

“watch yourself get fucked by your future husband.” he grunts, his thighs burning from all the rutting, but he’d feel that pain forever if it meant he could be able to fuck you like this again.

you watch as your tits bounce through your shirt in the mirror, drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. the mirror was big enough that you could see his dick pumping into you. obscenely wet sounds coming from where you two meet.

“o-oh fuck, feels s’good, don’t stop!” you moan out, staring at him in the reflection. he was so focused on the way you felt around him, he had almost forgotten you two broke up.

“oh god, baby. i fuckin' love you, need your pussy every day, can’t live without it.” he bites your shoulder, hard, making you groan. his hand moving from your throat to grope your tits through your top. his hips only slapped into you harder and harder, your vision going blurry when the head of his cock hits your soft spot. you let out chants of his name, your arms reaching back to grip his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

you stared at yourself in the mirror. the way he slid in and out of you with ease made you squeeze around him, prompting a groan from him. your hair was out of place from his rough treatment, marks down your neck and thighs. you couldn’t even think about having to explain this to your friends later.

“squeezing me so good. so perfect for me. gonna let me fill you up, hmm? walk around with my cum dripping out of you, let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” he thrusts with a bruising pace, your whole body rocking with the rolls of his hips.

“p-please yes! need it so bad!” your mind starts to blank, the only thing you could think about was the way he was pulsing inside of you, threatening to spill at any minute.

“touch yourself, baby.” he pants, his thrusts getting sloppier. he was so close, but there was no way he was going to cum before you. you nod, bringing a shaky hand to your ruined pussy, rubbing and pinching your clit the way you liked it. your mouth fell open at the overwhelming pleasure taking over.

“m’gonna cumm!” you whine until the only thing you can say is his name, over and over. just how he always loved it. he whispers dirty praises into your ear, talking you off the ledge. you force your eyes to stay on his own in the mirror. you hated how fucking hot he was.

waves of intense heated pleasure start to roll over you, moaning as your vision gets blurry with tears of ecstasy. “s’good!” you scream, tightening around him, making it hard for him to move. he curses as you grip his cock so tightly, milking him so hard he cums inside of you.

you pant as his thrusts get lazy and eventually slow to a halt. he didn’t want to pull out, but he knew he couldn’t just stay in here with you forever, no matter how much he wanted to.

he pulls out hesitantly, the mixture of your release dripping out of you making him let out a harsh breath.

you finally come down from your orgasm, completely fucked out. oh how much you missed his cock. and him too you guess.

he turns you around, giving your cheeks kisses before enveloping his mouth with your own. your tounges gently roll over eachothers, contrasting in comparison to how he was just fucking your brains out.

your phone lights up on the counter with a text from your bestfriend. you squint, reading the message.

‘bitch i’m leaving. don’t think i didn’t see you guys btw -_-‘

he wraps his arms around your middle, seeing the message.

“gonna come home with me?” he leaves even more love bites down your neck, making you sigh.

“…yea”

GETO, gojo, SUNA, atsumu, leon kennedy, toji, kuroo, dick grayson (sorry not sorry), your fav ;)

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notafunkiller · 6 months

Text

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern. “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pills?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pills, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #ex-husband!bucky barnes #divorced!bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fluf #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fanfics #my stories

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minami-ff · 5 months

Text

I Want My Kids to Have Your Eyes

Levi x Reader (fluff, sfw)

what a bold thing to say to your captain.

Moonlight hung over the hill like a comforting blanket as you both reclined an arm’s length apart on the soft grass beneath, bodies sinking into the earth. The day had been relentless, a gruelling mission that tested every ounce of strength. Now, in the quiet aftermath, you two found solace gazing upward at the summit’s view, shimmering like scattered diamonds against the canvas of the night sky.

The shared stillness remained comfortable, before you posed a soft interruption to the quietude, "Captain, do you ever think about your future?"

Levi's eyes briefly left the constellations above, attention shifting to you. "Yes, it usually ranges from the next second to the next few months. Which area of land outside the walls to explore, how defensive operations should alter for the next month, which day certain intelligen-”

“Captain-” You interrupted, then hesitated, the vulnerability of the topic making your heart race. "I meant a peaceful future, like having a family, kids?"

Levi's brow furrowed slightly. The thought of it was unfamiliar, impossible. "In this war? That’s far-fetched," he remarked, gaze returning to the stars.

A subtle smile grew on your lips as scenarios played at the back of your mind. "I know, of course, but don’t you ever imagine it? A life after the war, a future where Titans are just stories we tell our children." Levi's expression softened, a fleeting hint of wistfulness in his eyes.

"Like sometimes I think if I had children, I’d take them to play by the oceans, make adorable lunch sets," you continued, "how beautiful they would look if they had your eyes…" Embarrassment started flushing up as you realised you rambled on way too far.

His eyes widened imperceptibly, caught completely off guard by your comment.

"WAIT, that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean having them with YOU, of course... definitely not…" You trailed off, a splash of pink painfully obvious on your cheeks. Get yourself together y/n, what on earth are you saying to your captain?

“Ouch.” A flicker of disappointment crossed his features. Levi cleared his throat, seemingly caught in the unexpected turn of the conversation. "Well aren’t you very in objection to that idea." he snickered, hiding a trace of sorrow beneath his face.

“Nevermind, I’m sorry, please forget what I said." You apologised in the tense atmosphere.

But Levi didn't dismiss it. Instead, his mind seemingly remained lost in contemplation. "How will your children have my eyes, if they don't have my genetics?" Determined to disprove your faulty reasoning.

You chuckled nervously, "I just mean I hope they’ll be a pretty colour, and delicate shape, like yours."

Levi displayed a rare vulnerability in his expression. He had never given thought to the aesthetic of his eyes; they were simply a part of him, a feature he never considered noteworthy. This was the first time he had received a compliment about them, and it left him momentarily speechless.

"At this rate, my most optimistic guesstimate is that I’ll be slaying titans till I’m 60." You broke the awkwardness joking, "in that case I might not be able to have kids, doubt any man would still take my crinkled self on a date anyway."

"Why not?" Levi replied seriously, his voice a soft echo in the tranquil night. "I won't be even a tiny bit surprised if you're still this beautiful at 85."

A blood-bathed blush adorned your complexion, stomach filling with butterflies and warmth, brain connections zapping around - wondering if he really thought that way, or,

“you’re just saying that.”

Levi sighed, “in all your years of knowing me, when have I ever felt obliged to tell a white lie, Comrade?”

"Right…” You muttered, with all sorts of thoughts doing laps beneath your skull, trying to continue the conversation as level-headed as possible. “Perhaps I'll meet my first love at 99,” a giggle escaping your breath as you joked.

Unexpectedly, Levi's response carried a weight that belied the casual banter. "Well. I think people can be in love without being in a formal relationship. You could easily have your first love now."

Your gaze laid upon his side profile, slightly puzzled by his logic, "but how can you be in love with someone without holding hands, saying mushy things, and all that?"

His head turned towards you, a moment of silence filling the air with eyes drilling into yours, revealing a sincerity that tugged at your heart. "I definitely can."

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lemonlover1110 · 6 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌

Toji Fushiguro & Shiu Kong

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader x Shiu Kong

Summary: Shiu knows that his best friend and his wife like each other, so he chooses to do something about it.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, threesome, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), face fucking, handjob, creampie, Shiu is jealous (just a bit), praising, they call reader a slut

*Yes, this is my third time reposting this

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Your husband sees the way you look at his best friend. It’s hard not to see the lust behind your eyes every time that you look at Toji. When you hear that Toji’s coming over, you put on your cutest dress, put on some makeup and do your hair. He watches as you giggle at his every joke, getting a little too touchy with him as well. You always assure your husband that it’s nothing, even if he catches you red handed flirting with Toji; it’s not actually flirting… At least nothing too intense, but it’s enough to make him see red.

Shiu is completely jealous of Toji. So fucking jealous because his wife likes his best friend more than him. It makes Shiu seethe, and what infuriates him more is the fact that he has to pretend everything is okay. He has to keep his cool around you when you lie and tell him that you don’t understand what he means, you obviously don’t like Toji. That’s his best friend. You only have eyes for him.

God, he’s so fucking annoyed by it all. But he has a plan, something that he should maybe consult with you both first, but he isn’t. He calls you when he’s headed home and he tells you how he wants to find you: all dolled up, wearing his favorite lingerie set. He knows that you’ll abide since he asks very little of you. All while Toji sits next to him on his ride home, not paying any attention to what Shiu says.

They converse very little while on the way there; Toji is engulfed in his phone, and Shiu wonders why since Toji isn’t usually the type of person that stares at his phone. Maybe Toji is checking up on his son– Or he’s talking to someone. Either way, Shiu doesn’t care, as long as Toji isn’t talking to Shiu’s wife.

“What’s your wife cooking tonight?” Toji finally asks, looking at Shiu, who just shrugs in response. You’re definitely not cooking anything. “I hope it’s something good, I’m fucking hungry.”

“You won’t be that hungry when we get there.” Shiu says, which doesn’t make any sense. Toji is about to question it but Shiu parks in front of the house. They exit the car and walk into the home. The men hear you yell,

“Shiu!” You drag out his name, walking to the living room to meet him; you’re wearing just what he wanted you to wear, looking exactly how he wanted you to. You have a smirk on your face, however, it fades away when your eyes land on a man that’s not your husband. You and Toji stare at each other for a minute before you both turn to look at Shiu. “What the hell is this?”

“Hmm… What?” Shiu pretends to be confused. You both shoot daggers his way until he puts his hands up defensively. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, I’m just trying to do you a favor.”

“A favor? What exactly?” You ask him, watching as Shiu steps toward you. He kisses your lips before a smile comes to his lips.

“You two get to fuck as long as I get to join you.” Shiu says, and you cross your arms.

“Who said I want to fuck him?” You furrow your eyebrows. Yeah, you want to fuck Toji, but you’d never tell that to your husband– You know better than that. Shiu’s hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head up. He chuckles before he pecks your lips again.

“You don’t have to lie to me, honey. I know you better than you think.” Shiu responds. “Plus, you see how quiet Toji is? You might not like him so much, but he certainly wants to fuck you. Would you do that for my dear friend? Please?”

“I– Um– No–” It feels like someone else has taken over Toji’s body. He would certainly agree if he had gotten the news before walking into your home and finding you in lingerie. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just agree because Shiu has clearly given the greenlight– But this could all be a test and Toji can’t lose his only friend. Shiu helps Toji out in so many ways, Toji can’t lose that. “I don’t–”

“Who do you two think I am?” Shiu ends up asking, and you end up rolling your eyes. Since he wants you to fuck Toji so bad, fine. You walk over to Toji, smiling at him before your hands go up to his shoulders and then meet behind his neck

“He wants us to fuck so bad, fine. Let’s do it.” You lick your lip before smirking at Toji. He can’t be blamed, you were the one that walked over to him first. Shiu would surely understand, right? If it’s a test, Toji tries to fight back his desire but he can’t when you’re looking so tempting in front of him. Your hand caresses his cheek before your lips go up to meet his.

He kisses you back and deepens the kiss, licking your bottom lip and when you open your mouth, his tongue goes inside your mouth. His tongue presses against yours, and he lets his hands roam around your body, although he’s hesitant at first. He gets more comfortable as he feels you up. He completely forgets that Shiu is watching, getting lost in your lips and your tongue.

You end up pulling away, a smirk coming to your lips. You grab his hand and walk over to your husband, grabbing his hand as well. You take both men to the bedroom, and when you’re there, Toji’s arms wrap around your waist before one hand wraps around your throat and he begins to kiss you. Shiu begins to kiss and suck on your neck while Toji focuses on your lips. Shiu kisses up your neck and stops at your ear, “You look so good tonight, honey.”

You’re not paying much attention to Shiu since Toji is so intoxicating. Toji’s hand goes into your panties, and his index and middle finger run through your folds. His fingers move slowly and move in a circular motion once they’re on your clit. Toji pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Toji has a smug smile on his lips before he comments, “Oh, you’re so fucking pretty. I can’t wait to watch you take my cock.”

Toji takes his hand out of your panties, and he looks at Shiu. Shiu kisses your jaw before he orders, “Get on the bed.”

You do so without a problem. Both men want the same thing, and it’s to get on their knees and taste you on their tongue. Shiu loves the way you taste on his tongue, and while Toji is a person that prefers to receive rather than give, he just wants to taste you for at least once in his life; your lips aren't enough.

The sight of two men getting on their knees for you is something that certainly boosts your ego. Toji’s tongue begins to run through your folds while Shiu’s tongue goes directly to your clit. You bite down on your lip, holding back the soft moans that threaten to leave your lips as the men start off. They’re both looking up at you, watching your pretty face as pleasure slowly consumes you– It’s not too much now, but Shiu stops lapping at your clit and he smiles at you.

“Open your mouth, baby.” Shiu says, which you do, and he shoves his fingers in. Your tongue swirls around them, and when he thinks they’re wet enough, he inserts both fingers into your cunt. You moan, his thick fingers filling you up. He slowly moves them in and out of you, “Oh, you’re so pretty… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You were thinking about doing this, right?”

You bite down your lip and you shake your head. You can’t let your husband know that you have been thinking about this… More about Toji than him, but you certainly don’t mind having both. Shiu scissors his fingers, and he watches you shut your eyes.

You throw your head back and finally moan. You feel a second tongue on your cunt again, and when you look back at them, you watch as Shiu’s tongue presses against Toji’s to take over. Toji doesn’t want to stop but Shiu is too overbearing and Toji stops. Toji gets a different idea, his eyes landing on your juicy lips.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so pretty.” Toji gets up from the floor and takes a seat beside you. He grabs your throat again, his lips landing on yours again, and your hand goes to his pants. You unbutton his pants and move your hand into his boxers, your hand wrapping around his cock. Shiu watches you, so focused on how your tongue swirls around Toji’s and it’s turning him on more than he’d like. You’re moaning into the kiss, and Toji loves the vibrations that it sends– Although that’s the last thing he notices while your hand lazily strokes his cock.

Toji’s free hand goes to your back and unhooks your bra. He pulls away from the kiss and slides off your bra. Toji kisses down your neck and his mouth then lands on your nipple. He begins to suck on your nipple while you take your hand out to spit on it before your hand goes back to stroking his cock.

Your moans roam freely into the air, Shiu’s tongue working just right, and so are his fingers. His fingers are curved just right, and they brush against your sweet spot; it makes you glad that he’s the one that’s fingering you instead of Toji because Shiu just knows every inch of your body. Your orgasm is building up, and you get louder by the second.

You look down at your husband who is looking back up at you. He’s watching every contort in your face, something that’s enough to make him soil his pants. You shut your eyes again, and he knows how close you are to finishing. It’s just all too much for you. Not only Shiu, but Toji moaning against your tit as you stroke his cock. Shiu absolutely hates how you’re moaning Toji’s name though– It drives Shiu absolutely insane.

“Fuck, Shiu!” You finally moan his name as you reach your orgasm, and when Toji hears Shiu’s name, he bites down on your nipple. Shiu takes his fingers out and stops playing with your clit, standing up from the floor. Toji also stops sucking on your breast, and you take your hand out of his boxers. Shiu unbuttons his pants, taking them off along with his boxers.

“You pick what you want to do with her, Toji.” Shiu says, completely ignoring what you’d like. Shiu knows you, you’d be fine with anything as long as you get fucked. Toji licks his lips as he looks you up and down before he stands up.

“Bend over.” Toji orders, and you do as he says. He spanks your ass before he pulls down his pants and strokes his cock a couple of times before his tip runs through your folds. He inserts his cock slowly, and you immediately feel how much thicker he is compared to your husband– And he’s longer too.

Toji has to bite his mouth to not make a sound as he feels your pussy wrap around him. You feel so fucking good around him, even better than he imagined. He’s always thought about you like this– He just didn’t expect it to feel so fucking good.

“Fuck– Gimme a minute, Toji.” You say, needing a minute to get adjusted to him. You nearly forget about your husband, until his body is right in front of you. He grabs a handful of your hair and forces you to look up at his face.

“I hope my pretty little wife hasn’t forgotten about me.” Shiu comments, and you’re too focused on Toji to properly take care of your husband. Your hand wraps around his cock and you begin to stroke his cock.

“After this, she’ll completely forget about you.” Toji jokes. He begins to move, and your hands hold on to Shiu’s thighs for balance. Shiu takes advantage of your open mouth to shove his cock inside it. Your moans are completely muffled with your mouth wrapped around your husband’s cock.

Both men are moving their hips to gain pleasure from you. Toji’s nails are digging into your hips while your nails are digging into Shiu’s thighs. Toji hears as you gag on Shiu’s cock, and he chuckles before he mutters, “You didn’t tell me your wife is such a good little slut.”

“Shut up. I don’t want to listen to you.” Shiu says. Drool is running down your chin as you gag on your husband’s dick. He thrusts it in and out of you, being less gentle than he usually is. You can’t complain though, you like this side of him– You’re not so focused on him but rather the cock that fills up your cunt.

Toji’s dick hits every right spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Right now you’re so grateful that your husband came up with this. You hear Shiu moan, “Fuck– What a good little mouth… Maybe I should fuck it more often.”

“Doubt it’s as good as this.” Toji responds, picking up speed with each thrust. He’s getting harsher with each thrust and you fucking love it. You’re moaning on Shiu’s cock, and it’s driving the man wild. Toji praises you, “You’re taking it like a good little slut.”

“Oh, she’s a good little slut.” Shiu replies. Oh, they’d love to hear your response to this, but your mouth is just so full. Tears run down your eyes, the makeup on your face completely fucked up. “My good little slut.”

One of Toji’s hands goes under to play with your clit, even though through penetration alone he could make you come. Your orgasm doesn’t take too long to build up. Your walls are tightening around Toji’s cock, and he’s groaning at the feeling.

“Fuck… Shit…” Shiu begins, his breathing getting heavy as his release approaches. Your mouth feels so great when it’s wrapped around his cock. It’s so good that the slight jealousy that he felt at the beginning, thinking about Toji feeling your tight pussy, is completely gone. You’re looking up at your husband, watching how his head is thrown back and he’s getting lost in the feeling.

You feel his cum hit the back of your throat, and you attempt your best to swallow every drop before it spills out of your mouth and down his cock/the floor. Just as Shiu pulls his cock out, your orgasm takes over you. Your nails dig into Shiu’s thighs even stronger, drawing blood from his flesh as you try to maintain your balance.

Toji looks at how your juices coat his cock, hearing the lewd sound that results from him thrusting in and out of you, and it drives him insane. He’ll be thinking about this for months. He’s so close to finishing, and his thrusts become sloppy– Should he pull out or…?

His thinking gets too cloudy. Before he can even decide if he wants to pull out, he ends up finishing inside of you. Once every drop of his cum is inside of you, he pulls out.

“Sorry man, I meant to pull out.” Toji says, pushing his cum back inside you.

“It’s alright man, pull out next time.”

Next time?

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Interviewers Are Assholes

The world didn't know about their relationship. But, once they find out, they refuse to leave her alone

(AKA I saw a martin brundle grid walk compilation and he asked someone 'who are you?' and i ran with it)

Loscar x reader

F1 Masterlist

"Are we doing Thanksgiving this year?"

This was not the conversation Logan and Oscar expected to hear from their girlfriend as the three of them stood on the grid. It was normally F1 staff, drivers, engineers, mechanics and such, along with celebrities on the grid before a race. But, dating two drivers on different teams meant not being about to sit in both of their garage at once (she was only human, after all).

So, they stood on the grid together before the race, chatting before the national anthem was played.

"It's kinda early to be talking about Thanksgiving, babe," Logan muttered, shaking his head.

She held her hands up, somewhat defensively. "Just trying to be prepared."

They'd been together for four years at this point. For the first two years of their relationship they hadn't had to worried about traditional celebrations from their countries of origin. But when they all moved in together, she insisted on it.

The first year they'd lived together, they'd gone to Florida for Christmas, spent it with Logan's family.

The next year they'd done Thanksgiving before heading to Australia for a traditional Australian Christmas, filled with seafood and everything.

This year, though, they had no idea what they were doing. Of course she was already stressing about it. It didn't surprise Logan and Oscar in the slightest.

Suddenly Logan and Oscar were looking past her. "What?" She asked, readying herself to turn around. But then Logan and Oscar were retreating. "Guys!" She called, readying to follow them.

There was a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, coming face to face with Martin Brundle on his grid walk. "Hello, who are you?" Martin Brundle asked.

It made sense. She clearly wasn't working for any F1 team, and she was surrounded by celebrities. The fact that she was talking to two of the drivers probably made him all the more curious.

"I am..." But she didn't have an answer for him. Who was she? It had been four years already, why were they hiding it. "I am a... wag," she answered, and immediately regretting it.

What she didn't know was that Logan and Oscar didn't get very far. They stood behind her, just out of view of Martin Brundle's camera, giggling as they listened to her struggle.

"Who's wag are you?" Martin Brundle asked, but he already knew. He'd seen them retreating as he walked over.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good question, Martin," she said. "Who's wag am I?" Did she choose one of the boys? If so, which one? Or did she just come out to the world, tell everyone that she loved Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri?

She went with the latter, unaware of how much it would come to affect her. "Sargeant and Piastri," she said, scratching the back of her neck.

This might have been the strangest grid walk Martin Brundle had ever done. She didn't sound entirely happy to be dating the McLaren Driver and the Williams Driver. Don't get me wrong, she was happy to be dating them, but she was ready to kill them. Assholes.

"What kind of result are you expecting from them today?" She asked.

"Well, Martin, I'm always hoping they do well. Every Grand Prix they try their absolute hardest and every week I'm proud of them," she said, the perfect answer.

Lets just say, after the grid walk, the internet kind of blew up. Loscar was a somewhat forgotten ship, replaced by Landoscar. But it had returned and it was real. It was actually real!

As with everything in F1, some fans loved it, some fans didn't. But, most of all, everybody was so curious. Nobody knew this four year long relationship was a thing until a couple of weeks ago. Everybody, especially F1 reporters wanted to know everything.

Media days were completely filled with questions about their relationship. Logan and Oscar rarely got asked about anything else. They didn't mind. They were more than happy to talk about it.

But interviewers took it too far when they pulled her into things. She wasn't media trained in the way they were. She didn't have a PR team that prepared her with every answer for every question. That was how the grid walk had gone so wrong (or so right, if you asked the Loscar boys).

Oscar had gotten through to Q3, Logan hadn't. As always, she was there to comfort him, to hold him close after media duties. Media duties, which were taking ages.

But then the interviewer spotted her standing behind him. "It was recently reviewed to the world that you and Oscar share a girlfriend. How did that come about?"

The camera focused in on her behind him, as she furrowed her brow. It picked up no sound, but watched as her lips moved, forming 'what the fuck?' It was lost on her, and everyone, what this had to do with racing.

"Uhm, well, we've all known each other for our entire lives, it just made sense that we all dated," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

As soon as the interview was over, Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her away. "Sorry baby," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Why is it such a big deal to everyone?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

Most Wags weren't pulled in for interviews. The invasive questions had been a step to far already to the Loscar throuple.

This time, after checking on Oscar in the McLaren garage, kissing him before he went off to to his drivers room. She headed out, meeting the both of them at the car. She never expected to be accosted by an interviewer.

She didn't know his name, she didn't care. He grabbed her arm, pulled her on camera, and shoved a microphone in her face. "So, Y/N, what is it like to be dating to F1 drivers?"

There was a moment before she answered. Her brows were furrowed as she looked between the interviewer and the camera. "Why... why are you interviewing me?"

"The three of you have stunned the world with the announcement of your relationship. When did the three of you meet?"

"Uhm, I-Well... uhm... We've known each other for... sorry, why the hell am I being interviewed? This isn't... I don't want to be interviewed. Please leave me alone."

The interviewer bashfully turned to the camera, trying to recover. As soon as he looked away, she retreated, heading back towards one of her boys drivers room.

Oscar wasn't in his drivers room. He walked towards her, grabbing a hold of her before she had a chance to notice him. "Hey, baby," he said, pulling her close. "Is Logan not ready yet?"

Before answering, she turned back towards the exit, where the interviewer was still waiting. "Let's go get him," she said, pulling Oscar towards the Williams garage.

But Logan, too, was walking towards them. "Logan!" She called, throwing her arms around him. Oscar hung back. When she let go of him, they headed to the exit together. "There's a fucking annoying interviewer up there, and I want to kick his ass," she said, linking her arms through theirs.

"Kick his ass, baby."

They walked to the exit together. Once again, as they walked past the interviewer, he tried to grab their attention. Logan and Oscar were prepared to pull her past, to ignore him, but she stopped. She turned to the interviewer and grabbed his microphone.

"Just a PSA literally everybody," she began. The interviewer and the boys watched on with curiosity. "Our relationship is none of our business. Fuck off."

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fallingdownhell · 3 months

Note

Hey….. soz if this is too much but can you do this https://www.tumblr.com/fallingdownhell/715302705397202944/i-absolutely-love-your-works-can-you-make?source=share

but with tighnari, wanderer and heizou thanks

Always. I always like me some angst with comfort<3 Characters Included: Wanderer; Tighnari; Heizou Summary: you have an argument with the boys, since they've been neglecting you for their work Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; some angst; hurt/comfort; some swears and mean words; Wanderer is referred to as Kuni/Kunikuzushi Word count: 3,6k words Enjoy<3

Wanderer

You love your boyfriend. You truly do.

But between him helping out the Dendro Archon and now having enrolled in the Academiya, it felt like you didn't have a boyfriend at all anymore.

You rarely got to see him, and the times you did, he was so stressed and on high alert that he would probably snap at you if you were to bring up any topic that might put more stress onto him.

So instead, you just put up with his even more grumpy attitude towards you, trying to help him with whatever you could, hoping that it might take the edge off him a bit. But nothing ever seemed to work.

On the contrary, it has only gotten worse. For the past few days, you haven't seen your boyfriend. At all. He didn't come home and he has not been seen wandering the streets of Sumeru City.

You got so worried that you decided to pay Nahida a little visit, asking if she knew of the whereabouts of your dear boyfriend. She apologized to you, informing you that he had tasked him with something important, but that he should be back by today.

And true to her words, Kuni did come back home that night. However, once again, he paid no attention to you at all. He only laid down and fell right asleep, claiming that he was exhausted from his trip to the desert.

That was the point where you couldn't take it anymore. You understand that he has a lot to deal with currently, but that doesn't give him the right to treat you like you didn't exist. So, you decided to confront him in the morning, before he would leave again, hoping that a conversation could help clear things up between the two of you.

So, you made sure to wake up before him, making yourself and him some small breakfast like you like to do. When he comes down to eat with you, you greet him a good morning, which he only answers with a grumpy hum.

"Kuni.. we need to talk.", you decide to start, not wanting to take this attitude from him any longer.

A frustrated groan leaves his lips, rolling his eyes into the air. "Really, (Name)? Now? Can't we do this another time?"

"Yeah, sure. Just let me know when you decide to acknowledge me living here with you again. No, Kuni. We talk now. I'm done being treated like I don't exist."

At that, the Wanderer starts to gets defensive of his actions and soon enough, you two are in the middle of a full blown argument, loudly shouting at each other. Every semblance of a normal conversation has long left and you were now basically spewing insults at each other, none of you willing to acknowledge the others point of view.

"Gods, why do you always have to be so annoying? Maybe, if you weren't so god damn clingy all the time, I'd pay more attention to you!"

The words leave his lips and as soon as they do, he can see a flash of hurt shine in your eyes, which you quickly try to hide. But he's already seen it, and regret slips into his body.

Silence ensues, you're just staring at each other for a few seconds. You wait, hoping that he'll take back what he said, but nothing comes from him. His lips stay sealed as he just stares at you.

"So, it's my fault now? I'm the one at fault for you basically ignoring my entire existence? Making me question if I even have a boyfriend at this point? Because that's what it feels like. I don't get to see you anymore, I have to walk on eggshells around you, and then you go and blame me for it? Do I really mean that little to you?"

Your voice is dangerously calm as you say that, tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes, but you force them to stay down for now.

You see something shine in his eyes, but you can't put a finger on what it is before it's gone again, and he averts his eyes from you. A few more silent seconds pass and you're about to just get up and leave, when you hear him mumble something under his breath.

"...-ong."

"What was that?"

"..You're wrong.", he says, looking back up at you. Now, you can clearly see the conflict in his eyes, shining bright like he's begging you not to make him say this. But you just cross your arms in front of your chest, urging him to go on.

"I... you're wrong. You.. do mean something to me. More than I like to admit. I shouldn't have put the blame for my actions on you. I... I don't want you to leave. And.. I'll try better from now on."

For a moment, you look at him, contemplating his words. This would probably be the closest to an apology you would ever get from him. But when you don't answer him, you can see him starting to get a bit restless, squirming in his seat.

"I.. I'm... sorry..", he mumbles quietly, but you still heared it. Surprised by this, you can't help but let out a low chuckle, which instantly catches his attention.

"I just want to help you, Kuni. If there's anything I can do to help with the stress, let me know. Just, please don't ever treat me like this again."

Hearing you say that, he closes his eyes and nods his head, relieve washing over his body. And for the first time in a few weeks, he decides that it's not too bad if he shows up a bit later, just to make up for the time he missed spending with you.

Tighnari

As head of all the Forest Rangers in Gandharva Ville, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Tighnari to be stressed. It happens quite frequently, actually. And although being stressed regularly isn't a good thing, it helped him come up with ways to handle it and destress again after a long and tiring day. Because the last thing Tighnari ever wants to do is let out his frustrations on his partner.

He's usually very great about communicating when he's particularly stressed, and if his words aren't a dead giveaway, then usually his tail and ears are. When things get too overwhelming for him, his tail hangs a bit looser than it normally would and his ears would also fall a little bit more. It almost makes him look like a soaked puppy. You'd tease him for it if that wouldn't sour his mood even more.

But this time, it was something different.

He wasn't particularly stressed with work or anything. But one one of his patrols through the forest, he ran into an undiscovered species of flowers. All exited about it, it has been all Tighnari has been focused about for the past two weeks.

It's all he's been talking about as of late, if you even get the chance to talk to him in the first place. Most of the time, he's cooped up in his little work place, often forgetting to take meals and breaks because he's so focused on studying the little plant and learning everything there is to know about it.

You bring him meals on a regular basis, but if you really want him to eat them, you'll have to stay with him and nudge him consistantly to take a break and eat, or he'll forget about it.

You tried talking to him about it, but he keeps shutting you down, claiming that it won't last much longer, only until he knows enough about it to figure out if it can be used in some new medicines and such. Though he did promise you to try and focus back on you and Collei a bit more.

That promise lastet for one whole day before he skipped out on dinner plans with you and Collei again. You decided that enough was enough, so the next day after the dinner, you went to him to confront him about his inexcusable behaviour.

He was exactly where he had always been these past days, you were sure he heard you approach him, since you didn't exactly try to sneek up on him, though he did not acknowledge your arrival at all.

"Tighnari, we need to talk.", you begin, walking over so you were now standing next to him, your arms crossed in front of your chest. He didn't even look up when you adressed him.

"Later, (Name). I think I'm onto something here.."

"No, not later. Now!", you stay firm, not wanting to delay this talk any longer.

Hearing your response, Tighnari answered with an annoyed sigh, but he finally placed his tools down and turned to look at you.

"Fine then. What's so important that you just have to interrupt my work here?" He raises an eyebrow, almost like he's challenging you, like nothing could be important enough for you to justify this interruption.

You however stand your ground, holding his gaze firmly. "Your behaviour is what's wrong. You've been so focused on this stupid thing that you forget about the people in your life. Like yesterday. You promised to have dinner with me and Collei. She didn't show it, but I know how sad and dissapointed she was when you didn't show up. Again."

"I'm sure Collei understands perfectly fine just how important my research is, unlike some other people, it seems." Hearing this from him, you couldn't hold back the pent up anger and frustration anymore. You unleashed it all which in turn made Tighnari even more defensive and soon enough, you were in the middle of an heated argument, your shouting to be heard by almost every single person currently within Gandharva Ville.

And though almost everyone was on your side and agreed that Tighnari had been working too much, they also felt a bit bad for him. No one would want to be at the recieving end of your anger.

The argument kept going and going, emotions continuing to boil up inside both of you, until one particular statement went over Tighnari's lips. "You know what? I don't have time to deal with you right now, (Name). I have far more important things to do. I don't need you constantly lingering around and distracting me. Honestly, you're annoying me."

Suddenly, it became almost deafeningly silent and a second later, his words catched up with Tighnari. His eyes went wide and he was about to say something, but you beat him to it.

"So, what? We don't matter to you? Am I just some form to pass time when you have nothing better to do? Is that all our relationship is to you? And what about Collei? Is she also not important to you?"

Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes and Tighnari wanted to reach out to wipe them away. He hated to see you cry, even more so now because he was the reason for it in the first place.

His hand moved on instinct, but before he came even close to touching you, you turned on the spot and dashed out of his hut, leaving him standing there.

"Wait, (Name)!", he shouted, taking off and running after you. You were fast and had a head start, but he has always been the faster runner between the both of you.

Outside the Village, he caught up to you and caught you at your wrist. You came to a halt, but refuse to turn around and face him. You don't want him to see you crying, though you're both aware that he already knows that you're crying.

"(Name), please. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't know why I even said it to begin with. You're not annoying me, never. Our relationship is important to me, very much so. I realize now that I made a mistake by focusing too much on my research and neglecting you. And Collei, too. I promise to do better from now on."

"..You've already promised me that once, and didn't keep it. Why should I believe you now?", you question him, which he couldn't blame you for. Your voice was shaking, you were trying so hard to hold back the tears, his words from before obviously still clinging to you.

"You have every reason not to, but I swear to you, that this time will be different. I swear to you that I won't let this happen, ever again. Please, trust me."

You stay silent for a bit, desperately wanting to believe him. In the end, your heart wins and you slowly turn around to face him. A small nod is noticeable before you're being pulled into his arms, his hand coming up to hold the back of your head against him.

You both stay like this for a bit, just enjoying to be in each others presence again. Only then does Tighnari realize just how long he hasn't had the chance to hold you like that, and he silently curses himself out for his own stupidity..

Heizou

Being a renowned detective comes with many benefits, but also a lot of disadvantages at the same time.

The more cases Heizou solves, the better his reputation gets, but he also makes a lot of enemies, especially in the high society fields. Not everyone always agrees with his view on justice and how he wants to achieve it, but Heizou doesn't care. So long as he follows what he thinks is right, he won't falter.

However, he is thankful to the gods above for a partner like you, who's supportive of his beliefs and decisions. He loves that you don't question him and that you understand how important his work is to him.

He knows that you've already had a lot to sacrifice for him. How he sometimes has to cancel date night because of an important case, but he's always made up for it more than enough.

So yeah, you're aware just how important his job is to Heizou. You truly understand..

But it has never gotten to a point like it has now.

For the past week, you haven't seen your boyfriend. At all.

He doesn't come home anymore, he's either cooped up in his office or out and about searching for clues. Kujo Sara told you that they've gotten a pretty serious case, one that Heizou leaped onto and is determined to solve, no matter what it takes.

Apparently, what it takes is for him to sacrifice all of his time and effort, probably forgetting that he has a life and a relationship outside his work, as well.

You tried to be understanding, even came visiting him in his office a few times with some homecooked meals or snacks. But every time you did that, he barely acknowledged you, barely even touched the meal.

You tried having some small conversations with him, but you either got short, one word answers or nothing at all besides a hum. Eventually, you gave up and just let him be, but it's been a week now since he's taken over the case and there's still no end in sight. And for the past three days, since your last visit to his office, you haven't seen or heard anything of your boyfriend.

So, on the eight day, you decided to try again. You cooked a nice meal for Heizou, packed it up and made your way over to the Tenryou Commission headquarters. Entering the building, you got a few nods as greetings from people who knew you, as you made your way straight to your boyfriends little office.

Arriving there, you took a deep breath before you knocked two times. When no answer came, your heart slowly began to sank. What if he's outside searching for clues again? Still, you decided to peek in regardless, just to be safe.

And sure enough, Heizou was sitting on his desk, multiple files and papers spread out in front of him as he was frantically reading through them.

"Hey babe.", you greeted him with a smile, but there was no reaction. Heizou didn't look at you and he didn't say a word in return. Still, you didn't want to give up just yet.

"I brought you something to eat. Figured you might want a break and something homecooked to eat."

You placed the lunchbox on the furthest outside position on his table that was still free, yet again, the action was not acknowledged by him whatsoever.

Twirling your thumbs, you wait for a few seconds, before you make another attempt at conversing with him. "So.. how's the case going?"

Suddenly, the papers fly to the desk, his hands slamming against the wood and finally, he turns to face you, though his expression looks almost furious. "It would go better if I didn't have such an annoying pest interrupting me all the damn time!"

Shocked at his sudden outburst, you stare at him. "Wow.. you don't have to be so mean about it."

"Apparently I have to, because you just can't take the hint when I don't engage with your stupid attempts at conversation making. Like, can't you see I'm too busy to entertain you right now, (Name)?"

His words stung, like he'd just slapped you in the face with them. Tears began to form, but you refused to show him just how deep his words had hurt you. But you knew that he knew. He saw the hurt in your eyes, and you saw realization flash through him as his words catched up with him.

But you didn't give him time to say anything else. He wanted you gone, so that's what you were giving him. Turning on your heels, you left his office, not bothering to close the door behind you. You could hear the yell of your name coming from Heizou, but you ignored it.

On your way out, you passed Kujo Sara, who gave you a pitying look as you walked past her. You didn't want her pity. You just wanted your boyfriend back, but it seemed like that was out of reach for now.

When you were out on the street again, you didn't know what you should do now. Going home wasn't an option, there were too many things that would remind you of Heizou back there, and you didn't want to think about him right now.

The beach... a while ago, you found a beautiful, kinda secluded spot by the beach. You decided to go there for now, maybe it would help freshen up your mind and how to move on from here on out.

The waters were mesmerizing today. The waves were calm and the sun was reflecting off the surface. You sat down in the sand and just stared out to the horizon, your thoughts beginning to wander.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't notice the time passing, the sun soon beginning to set, dipping the scenery into a serene red that you only rarely get to see. A shiver ran down your spine, but you didn't care, you didn't want to go back home just yet..

"Here you are!", a voice suddenly cuts through the silence and you flip around, recognizing Heizou who's jogging over to you. However, you decided to pay him no further mind, turning around again and staring right at the horizon again.

You take notice of his presence now next to you, but you still don't say anything. No words are spoken between you two as he sits down next to you and does the same as you, blankly staring at the ocean.

There's no indication that tells you how much time passes like this, just you two sitting next to each other in silence, until Heizou speaks up again.

"I'm sorry. About what I said earlier. I shouldn't have done that."

"..Then why'd you do it?", you question him, no emotion in your voice. He hated to hear you like that.

"I... You just came at a really bad time. And I know that that's not an excuse. Not at all. I was so close to the breakthrough in the case and I just... snapped. Again, that's no excuse and I'm really sorry about that. When I realized what I had done, Sara was coming over to me, no doubt about to lecture me. I just threw my files at here, told here the updates and then chased after you. I thought you would be going home, but when I didn't find you there, I began searching all over the place for you. And I found you here, in the end."

He ends his little monologue with a shy smile, scratching the back of his head. Then, Heizou's expression turned serious again.

"I mean it. I'm sorry I snapped at you like that. You didn't do anything wrong. You were right, honestly. I kinda forgot about you and invested too much time to that case. I'm sorry and I promise I won't let that happen again, ever."

Hearing those words from him, you can't muster more than a small nod as a response. You didn't want to argue anymore with him, you just wanted to spend time with him and feel close to him again. That's all you wanted and needed right now.

So, you slid closer to him and leaned your body against his, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you from behind, his head coming down to rest on your shoulder.

Tomorrow, you could talk about this more with him. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy this moment with him.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin impact hurt/comfort #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x you #scaramouche x you #wanderer hurt/comfort #scaramouche hurt/comfort #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari hurt/comfort #heizou x reader #heizou x you #heizou hurt/comfort

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

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it was war it wasn't fair

the great war chapter 2 :)

R's teammates debate the potential causes of her breakup. Ona comes to her defense. R realizes her feelings might not be as easy to avoid as she hoped.

ps. not one bed trope, but... teammates-sharing-a-hotel-room-at-an-away-game-and-one-has-a-nightmare-kind-of trope.

brief descriptions of a panic attack.

-----

You were sure that if you could just sleep you'd be fine. You'd never really had problems sleeping before, but in the days since your breakup with Alessia, you'd been struggling. Your brain wouldn't turn off; you went back over every little moment in your relationship, over analyzing, trying to figure out where it went wrong. Where you went wrong.

You honestly wished that was the only thing keeping you up. It wasn't. You couldn't get Ona out of your head. The kindness she'd been showing you, how perceptive she was of your feelings. It was overwhelmingly confusing, to be heartbroken by someone, and completely fixated on someone else at the same time.

Most of the time, you were glad to have such a close team. Everyone looked out for each other, and you knew they'd always have your back. Unfortunately, they seemed to think that having your back in this situation meant hovering over you every second of the day. It didn't help that you wouldn't tell them why you and Alessia had ended things.

Although you knew your teammates were keeping an extra close eye on you, you hadn't realized that some of them had begun to have suspicions about what had gone down. You'd come to a halt outside the locker room, after hearing your name. You'd forgotten your keys, and were heading back inside when you heard Keira's voice floating through the doorway.

"Leah said Alessia's really torn up about it, but she won't tell anyone what happened either."

"I knew they weren't doing well, but both of them seem too upset for it to be a mutual thing," Lucy responded.

"Y/n doesn't look like she's slept in a week," Alexia chimed in. Perfect. This was a group conversation, apparently.

"Maybe one of them cheated. I don't remember seeing y/n leave by herself when we went out last week," Keira mentioned offhandedly.

You knew Keira didn't mean anything by it; anyone looking at your relationship from the outside would guess that between the 2 of you, you'd surely be more likely to cheat than Less. You'd been significantly more of a playgirl before Alessia, and your friends had always joked they'd missed the version of you that went home with a different girl every weekend.

Still, the implication that you'd done what had, in fact, been done to you, really fucking hurt. You were more than prepared to go in there and start yelling, god knows you've been needing someone to shout at, but someone beat you to it.

"If she wanted you guys to know what happened she would have said," Ona's voice rang out through the locker room, unmistakably filled with anger. "You're supposed to be her friends, she's clearly having a tough time, and now you're accusing her of cheating? Behind her back? "

"Ona, I didn't mean anything by it," Keira began, clearly startled by the angry tone with which the brunette spoke.

"Y/n didn't cheat, she'd never do that," Ona replied fiercely. "You're lucky she didn't hear you suggest that, because I'm not sure any of you would have been able to put her back together."

With that, Ona stormed out of the room, turning the corner and coming to a sudden stop at the sight of you. You'd been too baffled by her words to move, and now it was too late.

"Y/n,"

"Thank you, Ona. Really," you said, blinking back tears. Behind Ona, Lucy, Keira, and Alexia walked out of the room, clearly on their way to go after the defender and calm her down. They all looked comically shocked at the sight of you, but you had no interest in talking to them. You spun on your heel, walking briskly out of the building and to your car, ignoring the calls of your name behind you. Ignoring, too, the tears that began to cloud your vision.

-----

Despite arriving home several hours ago, you lay in the same spot on the couch that you'd occupied since walking through the door. Your brain was working a mile a minute, going back and forth between fixating on Ona's passionate defense of you, and being angry at your teammates for speaking about you behind your back. You'd gotten texts from them, you knew, a particularly long apology from Keira, but you'd yet to open them. Ona had texted you too, and you hadn't read that either, for a very different reason.

You weren't mad at Keira for thinking you'd cheated, not really. You just hated that they were trying to figure out what happened; you'd made it clear you didn't want to talk about it, and here they were, dragging it back up over and over again. Logically, you knew it was because you weren't handling it well, and they could tell. Maybe you didn't like them worrying about you, either.

You were about to grab your phone and absolve your teammates of guilt, when there was a knock on your door. You walked to the door, looking through the peephole, and sighing. Of course.

"Hola, Alexia," you said, swinging the door open. Captain Alexia wasn't one to take team conflict lightly.

"Can I come in?" she asked, after returning your greeting. In response, you stepped to the side, allowing her into your apartment. She followed you in, sitting next to you on the couch. She had a familiar glint in her eyes, one that you knew meant she was determined to do something. What, you weren't exactly sure.

"Y/n, I'm really sorry we were talking about you when you weren't there. We're really worried about you, but there's no excuse. We should have brought our concerns to you," Alexia tells you sincerely.

"I know you're worried," you sigh. "And I probably wouldn't have been very receptive to you asking me about how I was doing."

"And what Keira said-"

"I get it. Of the two of us, I seem like the one who would sleep with someone else. I would have thought the same thing too."

"Does that mean Alessia cheated?" Alexia inquired, after a moment of silence. You looked at her, stunned, not quite sure how she came to that conclusion. In response to your expression, she explained.

"You're both apparently really upset, so it's clearly not mutual like you said. I know you didn't cheat. Sleeping around might have been your thing before Alessia, but it's not now, and it would be unfair to assume you hadn't changed. And, the way you phrased that last part. You "would have" thought the same thing too. That makes it sound like you no longer think that way."

You processed this for a minute, reminded of how smart Alexia was. You wanted to be annoyed, because if Alexia knew, it wouldn't be long before the whole team knew. Alexia had a strict policy of sharing everything with her co captains, who, famously, could not keep their mouths shut. You were really just relieved, though, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, now that you didn't have to try so hard to pretend to be okay.

"Yeah. She slept with some girl in a bar."

"I'm sorry, y/n."

"It's fine. We were probably going to break up anyway, and she's having a hard time. I don't even know why I'm upset."

Alexia's face changed at that, looking somewhat stern.

"It's not fine. She still betrayed your trust, even if you were going to break up. Even if she is struggling. That's not an excuse, y/n, and you're allowed to be upset that a relationship you spent a lot of time in ended so horrifically."

You shrugged in response and avoided her eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Her hand came to rest on your shoulder before she spoke again.

"It's okay to be upset, y/n, you don't need to pretend you're not having a hard time with this. None of us will think any less of you." Alexia's tone was gentle, and at her reassurance, you turned to look at her, eyes big and wet with tears.

"Oh, nena," she said, pulling you in for a hug. You went willingly, allowing yourself to be comforted for the first time since the breakup. You cried softly into Alexia's shoulder, your captain's arms wrapped tightly around you. You felt safe here, in this little bubble with the older woman, safe enough to allow yourself to feel the hurt that you'd been pushing down for days.

-----

You'd assumed that after speaking with Alexia, you would feel better, and start sleeping better. You did feel better; it seemed that leaning on your friends during a tough time did, in fact, make getting through it easier. But you weren't sleeping better. If anything, it was getting worse. You'd wake up on the verge of having a panic attack, so filled with anxiety you could barely breathe. You didn't recall any nightmares that prompted this, and it didn't take long for you to calm down, but it made sleeping an ordeal.

The team's next game was an away game in Tenerife. You all had flown out the afternoon before the game, and tried to distract yourself from your exhaustion by goofing around with your teammates. Keira and Lucy had been relieved when you easily accepted their apologies.

Things with Ona were... more complicated. She'd seemed almost embarrassed after her outburst in the locker room, and had taken to avoiding you. Not completely, because you still caught her staring at you during practice, but enough that you found yourself inexplicably missing her presence. Those that had been on the receiving end of the defender's scolding were evidently intrigued by her behavior.

So, when you got your room assignments for the trip and saw Ona's name next to yours on the list, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the clear attempt from Alexia to get you back on non-awkward terms.

You all headed to dinner first, and you couldn't help but watch as Ona barely touched her food, seemingly caught up in her own thoughts. You weren't quite sure if she was preoccupied with you, or something else, but you were determined to find out. She was your friend, after all, and despite your increasingly confusing feelings for her, you wanted to be there for her.

Ona beat you to your room after dinner, and you walked in to find her sitting nervously on the bed nearest to the door, fingers picking at her nails. She began speaking almost the minute the door had shut behind you.

"I just wanted to apologize, y/n, if I overstepped. It wasn't my place to say anything, and-" you cut her off.

"Oni, it's really okay. You don't need to apologize for sticking up for me. What you said was... it was really nice." You were blushing. Why were you blushing?

"Okay, good," Ona replied, smiling in relief. She turned, presumably to finish getting ready for bed.

"Are you doing okay? You've seemed stressed recently, not like yourself," you mention, heading to your luggage to act like your question was more casual than it really was. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ona freeze.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just been a long week." she said. For some reason, you didn't believe her. Something in her voice told you that she was lying, but you didn't want to push.

"Well, if you want to talk," you say, smiling at her reflexively. It was almost unconscious, the way your lips lifted into a grin when you saw her face, freckles scrunching adorably as she returned your smile.

You turned back to your bag, internally shaking your head at yourself. You needed to get it together. You weren't so naive to not understand what was going on, but getting into a relationship with a teammate, so soon after the disastrous end to your previous one, seemed like the world's biggest mistake.

-----

Even though you'd done everything you could think to relax yourself before falling asleep, you still startled slightly only a few hours later, stuck in the land between wakefulness and slumber, your body thrumming with anxiety. It was a bad one, that was really your first conscious thought. You were already short of breathe, but still somehow drowsy, and you fought to drag your eyes open, and go through the familiar routine of grounding yourself.

You didn't realize you were breathing loudly, nor did you hear Ona the first time she said your name. It was only after the first time, when she spoke louder, that you turned your head to look at her in the other bed.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" She asked. You simply shook your head in response, not quite sure you could explain it. You wanted her to go back to sleep, let you pull yourself together on your own like you always did, but you should have known Ona wouldn't do that.

Ona rose from her own bed, approaching the side of yours. You'd sat up, resting your head in your hands as your chest rose and fell erratically.

"Y/n," Ona called softly, hovering nervously next to the bed, like she didn't know what to do.

"I'm ok-okay," you gasped out, admittedly not very convincingly.

"You don't seem okay," she said, doubt clear in her tone. "Do you want me to get someone? Lucy? Ale?" She turned as if to leave.

Suddenly, you were struck with fear at the idea of her leaving. You hadn't realized how much you'd been relying on her presence to calm yourself down until she mentioned leaving. You breathing sped up again, and you reached out frantically, grabbing a fist full of her shirt. She turned back to you, seemingly surprised at your movements. her face was filled with a kindness that was so distinctly Ona, you felt yourself calming down again at the mere sight of it.

"Hey, I won't go, it's okay," she reassured you, taking a careful seat on the edge of your bed. She gripped your hand in hers, tugging it off of her shirt, and you squeezed it gratefully. She sat next to you, allowing you to regulate your breathing, not saying anything, but apparently realizing you just needed to feel her next to you. When you were calm, a few minutes later, you turned to her, prepared both to thank her, and apologize profusely, but she asked a question before you could open your mouth.

"Is this why you haven't been sleeping?" she questioned. Her eyes were peering into yours, and you wished the lights were on, so you could see the warm honey brown staring back at you.

"Yeah. I don't really know what's going on, I just wake up really anxious," you admit, again reminded of Ona's miraculous power to get you to tell her the truth. Ona contemplated for a minute, before she motioned for you to scoot over. You did, although confused, and watched as she slid into the bed next to you. Ona's had her poker face as she laid down, resting her head on your pillow, and motioning you to nestle in next to her.

You were planning to object, really. Instead of opening your mouth, though, your body moved almost without your permission, and you were soon laying next to Ona, head tucked comfortably into her chest. It was such a natural thing, laying against her, like something you'd done a thousand times. You weren't tense, or uncomfortable. You just felt sleepy, suddenly, and enjoyed the feel of the spaniard's soft t-shirt on your cheek, not even questioning it when her arms wrapped around you, holding you securely against her.

Ona didn't say anything, and she didn't need to. You were already drifting off, remarkably calm for someone snuggling one of their friends, who they maybe, possibly, were developing a crush on. You didn't feel butterfly's like you would have expected. Ona never made you feel nervous. Flustered, sure. But as you drifted off into the best sleep you'd had in weeks, you were truly struck with how she comforted you easily, and how she got you to accept that comfort with no argument.

When you woke the next morning, still cuddled close to Ona, you marveled at the fact that you'd slept through the rest of the night. You watched her face as she slept next to you, the morning sunlight hitting her freckles perfectly. You wondered if you could count them all.

You also wondered how much longer you could pretend you weren't falling for the girl next to you.

-----

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #ona batlle x reader

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yousaveeveryonebutwhosavesyou · 13 days

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How to Talk to Someone Who is Struggling⁣

It can be tough to talk to someone who is struggling with their mental health. We want our friends and family to feel comfortable reaching out to us, but most people aren’t actually sure how to react when that happens. I’ve heard a lot of people express fears that they might say the wrong thing or even make the situation worse. And that’s valid. It took a lot of training for me to learn how to talk to suicidal and depressed people, and they just don’t teach those skills in regular school. But having those skills can save lives. ⁣

So if you’ve got a struggling person in your life and you’re not sure how to talk to them, remember:⁣

Don’t be afraid of using the word ‘suicide’. It’s a harsh word, and a lot of people are scared that talking about it directly might push someone to do it. It won’t. Suicidal people are thinking about suicide in explicit terms all the time; hearing the word out loud isn’t any worse than the things they’ve already been thinking. Using euphemisms and beating around the bush just makes it hard to have an honest conversation. Be direct. Say exactly what you mean. Ask your loved ones if they are thinking about killing themselves. Say the word suicide. It’s hard, but it’s important.⁣

Don’t make the conversation all about you. It is really, really tempting to jump in and tell a struggling person all about your own struggles with mental health in order to empathize with them. Don’t do it. Not right away. You might mean well, but when you launch into your own mental health struggles, you are suddenly putting the other person in a position where they have to comfort and empathize with you, when it should be the other way around. They don’t have the energy for that right now. Let them talk about themselves first. ⁣

Don’t have an intense emotional reaction to what they’re saying. This is really, really hard, but it’s important. When someone is telling you about their self-harm or suicidal thoughts, try to keep your face and your voice as neutral as possible. Offer empathy in a calm, comforting way, and avoid crying in their presence if you can. They are watching you closely to see what’s okay and what’s not okay to disclose; if they see you getting upset at what they’re saying, they won’t want to talk about it anymore. And once again, it puts them in a position where they have to stop and comfort you. ⁣

Don’t say “I know exactly how you feel”. Because you don’t. And hearing statements like this, even if they’re well-meaning, can come across as dismissive or patronizing. Even if you’ve been in a very similar situation, you can’t really know what it feels like to be someone else, or feel the pain they feel. Instead of saying “I know what you’re going through”, validate their pain and say “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” - because you can’t. ⁣

Don’t ask “why” questions. Asking questions that start with “why” automatically puts people on the defensive. When you ask “why do you feel that way”, it makes people feel like they have to justify themselves to you. Instead, ask “what are some of the reasons you feel that way?” This is a much more non-judgmental way to phrase things, and it allows people to explain what’s going on without feeling like they’re on trial. ⁣

Don’t be afraid of silence. When someone tells you something really heavy, sometimes you just won’t know what to say. That’s okay. A lot of the time, distressed people aren’t looking for comforting words - they just need someone to sit there in their pain with them, by their side. Silences are a natural part of intense conversations, and they’re important. Let them happen. And sometimes, a long silence gives someone the space to say the things they were afraid to say before. ⁣

Don’t try to “fix” the problem. When someone comes to you with a problem - their partner dumped them, they lost their job, they’re broke - it can be really, really tempting to just start hurling solutions at them. We’ll sign you up for dating sites! We’ll spruce up your resume! We’ll make you a budget! If the person reaching out to you wanted that kind of help, they would ask for it. If they’re reaching out to talk about their problems, they aren’t looking for practical solutions right now - they don’t need you to fix it, they need you to listen to them, understand how much they’re hurting, and sit by them when they cry. ⁣

Validate their feelings. Distressed people often feel that their emotions are ridiculous, or that they don’t “deserve” to feel sad because they are better off in life than other people. Remind them that they have a right to their own feelings. Confirm that, yes, their situation sucks and it’s okay for them to be upset about it. Never confirm suicidal feelings, but do let them know that their sadness or anger or shame is okay to feel, and they have a right to feel it.⁣

Offer resources only if they are okay with it. Pelting a suicidal person with unwanted pamphlets isn’t helpful. Even if you know a great mental health resource in your area, it’s important to ask if the person even wants resources, or feels comfortable reaching out to a resource. Always check in with the person’s comfort after providing a resource, and ask if you can help them to be more comfortable accessing this resource. If you gave them the name of a local mental health clinic, ask if they would like you to call the clinic for them, or accompany them to the clinic - offer whatever help you can, but don’t push resources, and always check in with their needs and comfort. ⁣

These tips aren’t perfect, and they won’t necessarily work for everyone - they are a guideline to get you started, and to feel more confident approaching struggling family and friends. Having intense conversations about mental health or suicide with a loved one can be overwhelming, and many people don’t feel prepared to have these conversations, even if they want to. Do your best. Even if you make mistakes, showing someone that you honestly care about them and you’re making an effort to be there for them can make a world of difference. Having an imperfect conversation is better than no conversation at all. ⁣

If you’re still having doubts about your ability to have these conversations, remember that there are helpful videos online that you can learn from, and you can always call suicide hotlines to get tips and reassurance about approaching a loved one you’re concerned about. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter how you have this conversation - it matters that you have it.

#mental health #mental health awareness #mental illnesses #depression #anxiety #bpd #cptsd #ptsd #bipolar #psychosis #panic disorder #schizophrenia

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 year

Note

If you're looking for any prompts; hero/villain where the hero needs to get out of the villains grasp but can't and as a last ditch effort kisses the villain in a panic, hoping it'll startle them enough to let them go. Surprisingly it works. mlm if you're feeling up for it! (I ADORE you're hero/villain stuff and you're writing is a huge inspiration!!)

He kissed the villain.

It was a clumsy kiss, a mashing of lips, a bumping of noses and then -

The villain recoiled just as something sparked between them, so hard that he hit the opposite wall with a thud. He clamped a hand over his mouth.

The hero panted for breath. He should have taken the opportunity to run - that was why he'd kissed the villain in the first place - but something about the villain's expression froze him in place.

If the villain had looked disgusted, he might have laughed it off. If he'd looked dazed or distracted, the hero would already have gone. But he looked...

"Are you okay?" the hero asked.

The villain was shaking.

"Come on, I'm not that bad a kisser," the hero said. Maybe it was a trap. A con. He definitely should have already ran but...

"I'm sorry," the hero said.

"Why would you do that?"

"I - I just wanted to distract you. I panicked."

"You panicked?"

That was probably really offensive.

"Your panic reaction," the villain pressed, "is a kiss? Or, what, you just want to kiss me that bad that it was at the forefront of your mind?"

The hero swallowed. They floundered. "I'm sorry if I - are you okay?"

"It's rude to kiss people without consent," the villain said, a little closer to their normal tone. "You know that, yes?"

"It felt kinder than, I don't know, non-consensually kicking you in the balls."

The villain snorted.

The hero edged a step back, but, like a fool, still didn't run. The villain had let go of him, though. Running was a possibility without those steely, impossibly strong arms holding him in place.

Lord, why wasn't he running?

The villain's gaze roamed over his face, lingering on his lips.

"So I assume you're, like, seeing someone," the hero said, taking another step back. He ignored the weird feeling in his gut.

"No."

"You don't like kissing?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," the villain snapped. "You're not supposed to kiss me."

"You seemed like you were definitely enjoying it for a second there. Also, you're staring at my mouth, mate."

The villain's gaze shot away. His shoulders squared, jaw clenching.

"Just want to know that you're okay and that I haven't triggered a trauma or anything," the hero said. "I wasn't thinking. I - I really am sorry."

"This is the most I've ever heard you apologise."

The villain didn't normally look like that. He was still pressed against the wall, rather than lunging, even with the obvious conversation about distractions. His hand was still shaking slightly.

The villain stuffed his hand behind his back when he caught the hero watching.

Maybe the villain was stalling for time, and back up.

The hero didn't think he was stalling.

"I kill anyone I kiss," the villain said, after a moment. "Properly kiss. It takes a moment for the curse to take affect."

"...are you serious right now?"

The villain gave him a withering look.

"That's very scary and all," the hero said, "but it doesn't answer my question."

"Yes, I'm serious! Want me to kiss you so you can find out?"

The hero's brow furrowed. If that was true, then the villain's reaction, his shaking hands..."Oh my god you were worried about me. You're protecting me."

"If I wanted to kill you-" The villain began, testily.

"No, no, you don't need to get defensive. I know you're not - like - secretly a marshmallow."

They both eyed each other for a moment. The villain's gaze had paused on the hero's lips again, filled with enough longing that it made the hero's chest cleave and his mouth go dry.

"Is it just your mouth?" the hero asked.

"What?"

"The killer kissing thing. Just your mouth? Or, like, if anyone kisses you anywhere."

"Just my mouth. Not that it's any of your-"

The hero stepped close, and pressed a kiss to the villain's cheek.

The villain's breath hitched. He looked dazed. Distracted.

"Shame," the hero murmured, and brushed a thumb over the villain's lower lip, watching their eyes go doe-wide and wanting. "Because kissing you actually was on the forefront of my mind."

"O-oh."

He pressed another kiss to the villain's neck, feeling his pulse race, feeling his head tip back against the wall in offering.

"Thanks for not killing me," the hero said, against his ear. "Let's pick this up another time, yeah?"

Then, he ran.

He heard the villain curse and take chase.

But it felt better than before.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #writing #story #kissing #fantasy #fic #ficlet #writing snippet #story snippet #enemies to lovers

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wingedcat13 · 9 days

Text

Siren Call: 3

[We’ve had past and present Minerva, but what about future?]

One day, Minerva will be familiar with the island’s crags and shelves. She’ll know the way the shore slope becomes a drop off and where the sandbars are, the color and density of all the coral, the migratory patterns of the species who pass by.

Today, she knows enough to avoid triggering the sensors. Even pauses to adjust one that’s started sagging out of place.

Minerva chooses not to walk up the beach, not wanting to track sand into the - house? Facility? Building? - not wanting to get sand caked to her feet and legs. Jumping straight up to the roof in a waterspout is also unnecessarily dramatic when there isn’t a fight to get to. So she just gathers herself, waits for a wave, and urges it a little higher, placing herself at its apex.

It gets her high enough that she can reach the railing of the overlooking balcony, with enough momentum to curl and tuck her body, cartwheeling over the rail partially just for the joy of motion. Even the smooth tiles feel rough compared to the water, strangely unyielding, and she wobbles just a little as she catches her bearings. Belatedly, she realizes she almost kicked the crap out of one of the balcony’s chairs. The little swerve she does is automatic. At least there wasn’t an audience-

“Minerva.” Says Synovus, sitting on the table because they’re deranged. There’s a surprised tilt to the end of her name, like half a question answering itself. They’re wearing civilian clothes again, and some part of Minerva’s mind can’t help noting that their arms are bare. “Welcome - back.”

One day, Minerva won’t scowl at them on reflex.

Today, she demands immediately, “Were you waiting for me?”

“Y-es?” Synovus hedges, not moving. “But also no? I was - I thought you’d be coming up from the shore.”

They sound almost abashed. But that’s too close to ‘embarrassed’ and Minerva is well aware that Synovus has no shame. She may have genuinely surprised them - they’re perched on the edge of the table, and had leaned away slightly. Synovus wanting to be a problem would have chosen a much more… blatant posture. Or at least to sit further back in the shadows. The absence of either a gaudy attention grabber or deliberate stealth indicated this middle ground was not an act. Or perhaps that’s what she’s meant to think.

One day, Minerva will not have to consciously pick aside the paranoia to see what is in front of her.

Today, it takes effort - but she does it.

With a sigh, she closes her eyes, and focuses on each part of her body, bringing herself down from the mild surge of adrenaline. One hand draws back the wet strands of her hair. The other removes the mask that was a gift. She leaves her eyes closed while she rubs the red marks out of her skin.

With her eyes closed, it’s easier to skip past the defensive retort, and say instead, “You could’ve at least had a coffee waiting for me.”

“I don’t actually know your preferences in that regard.” Synovus admits, and for a heartbeat Minerva is worried this will turn into a far too blunt conversation about homecomings, but - “Do you take it black? Iced? Green?”

Minerva scoffs, but it might have just been a laugh. Even she’s not sure. “White chocolate mocha.” She answers. “One shot espresso, oat milk.”

“Ah,” Synovus says, as Minerva opens her eyes. They seem to have had a revelation. “So that’s why Alexandria likes those Unicorn frappes so much. Hm. And here I usually go for the cider.”

A smile tugs at one corner of her mouth at the thought - Synovus, dread assassin, going to a coffee shop and ordering hot apple juice with whipped cream.

Minerva sets her mask on the table. “Stand up a minute.” She tells Synovus quietly, her voice nearly lost in the sound of the waves below.

“I don’t take direction well.” Synovus replies, even as they slide off the table and to their feet, turning to face her. There’s a caution to their movements, but also curiosity, written far more liberally across the unobscured face Minerva once never thought to see.

If Minerva meets their eyes too long, she’ll lose her nerve, so she winds up staring somewhere around Synovus’s collarbone instead. There’s a scar there, hidden for now by a high-necked top, and Minerva knows that because she put it there. It had been a targeted move: Synovus had broken her collarbone the fight before.

She wants to be better at giving back things other than pain.

“Just - give me a moment. Don’t move, please.” She’s pretty sure it’s the ‘please’ that gets them. Synovus goes so statue-still that Minerva’s not sure they’re blinking. But they don’t protest. And they certainly don’t move as Minerva steps forward.

And in one of the most awkward movements of her life, slides her arms around Synovus’s ribcage, setting her chin gently on their shoulder.

This is instantly easier when she no longer has to look at Synovus’s face. Well. When she can’t look. Can’t fixate on finding and parsing the smallest of expressions, assigning meaning to the specific tilt of a chin or speed of a blink. She’s still bad at it - hugging - because she usually just lets other people hug her, and initiating it is weird, but she can’t imagine Synovus is particularly good at it either.

After all, they’re still standing stock-still, and if Minerva wasn’t currently very aware of their breathing, she might even think they were panicking.

“Not a trap.” She mutters, and feels as much as hears Synovus’s responding huff. But their arms slowly, cautiously, hesitantly come up to return the embrace, hands resting lightly on her back. The side of Synovus’s head tips gently into hers.

One day, Minerva might not feel awkward about body contact and physical affection. One day, she may find herself as familiar with Synovus’s scars as she is her own. And she just might reach a point, eventually, where one of them could make a joke about this just being an excuse to get Synovus wet and not immediately both perish from the agony of an accidental allusion to arousal.

For today, this awkward embrace is enough.

———————————————————

Minerva probably won’t ever see a crowd as something other than a threat to be monitored.

Large groups have always made her tense, and that instinct had only gotten worse over the years. Most villains respect the ad hoc agreement about making an entrance, but there are a distinct few who would kill from a crowd. And there are those who are not villains in the distinct, identity sense, but would wreak havoc nonetheless.

So she scans the mall’s sheltered internal colonnade from behind her sunglasses, and listens to her daughter tell her about her day.

“- I just told him that I’d come from further South, and he didn’t ask me any more questions after that, but then freaking Brad asked me if I was an ‘illegal’ and I know what you mean now, about temptation to cram people into lockers. He’s lucky he’s so tall; I couldn’t fold him up to fit without taking some limbs off.”

Alexandria huffs, taking an aggressive pull from her milkshake. The stress of her life is getting to her - no teenager should have worry lines, or bags under their eyes that deep - but she insists this is what she wants. Even if Minerva sometimes wonders whether Alexandria sees herself as a member of the school’s attendees, or just a spectator who sometimes catches a stray ball.

“Did you tell Brad that?” Minerva asks mildly, mostly curious.

Alexandria sighs again, “No.” She says sullenly, shoulders slumping. “I asked him if he thought the government should determine who gets to live where, and then when he started to argue with me I told him I hoped his yacht sank with him on it.”

“Alexandria.” Minerva was still learning to find the right tone. The right amount of reproach, without exasperation or accusation. She must’ve gotten close, because Alexandria just lifts one hand in a ‘not me’ gesture.

“Specifically so he’d wash up in Mexico or Hawaii and get to be illegal himself.” She clarifies. “I don’t think that convinced anyone I wasn’t an immigrant, though. Til Seanna pointed out my grades in Spanish would probably be better.”

Minerva’s sigh is more restrained, but she points out, “There are other languages in South America. Brazilian Portuguese, for example.”

She’s not sure why she’s entertaining this, really.

“That’s true.” Alexandria ponders that for a moment, drinking more of her milkshake. “I mostly just meant to imply I was from one of the towns that got fu- uhhhh, screwed up by the power grabs.”

Minerva briefly leaves the conversation, remembering that shell of a place. The layouts, the dressings of a town, not quite abandoned yet but with nothing else to bleed.

Judging by the nudge she receives under the table, Alexandria isn’t totally oblivious to her distraction. She’s also changed the subject.

“So.” Alexandria is saying, drawing one syllable into three, “How are you and my godparent getting along?”

‘Godparent’ has become Alexandria’s favored way of referring to Synovus in public. It’s a joke on multiple levels, some of which Synovus seems to appreciate. But Minerva thinks it also makes them slightly uncomfortable, in a way they refuse to express to Alexandria.

“It’s fine.” Minerva replies, on rote. Her eyes flick to Alexandria, then back to the crowds. “What is it?”

“What do you mean, ‘what is it,’?”

“You wouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want something in particular.”

Alexandria’s mouth twists down, “Can I just get an answer without fishing for it, for once?”

Startled, Minerva looks at her again. Takes a better assessment of her daughter’s body language, the tension there. She knows she’s also gone tense.

Anger creeps into Alexandria’s voice, replacing the annoyance. “I’m not going to lose control. I’m not-“

She cuts herself off, abruptly looking away. Her fingers relax around the plastic cup, deliberately demonstrating that her strength won’t get away from her.

Minerva has a suspicion of how that sentence might have ended. I’m not like you and dad.

Reaching out physically feels like the wrong move here. So does stiffening up further and refusing to talk about it. Be better, she thinks to herself desperately, her mind flicking back to an image of a person with one foot in the water, one on dry land.

“We still… disagree, on some things. Some major things.” Minerva makes herself say. She still doesn’t like that Synovus kills people. She doesn’t like that Synovus has ostensibly killed for her, or for Alexandria. But she also feels relief that Synovus did, and a sense of gratitude she can’t quite smother. It makes her feel dirty, oily, and she hasn’t found it’s root.

Taking a breath, Minerva continues, “But… I don’t think they mean either of us harm.”

Alexandria has relaxed a little, absorbed by what Minerva’s saying. And probably having to pick through it for what she isn’t saying either.

“Would you say that you, I don’t know, maybe, trust them?” Alexandria prompts.

Minerva’s grimace is answer enough.

Alexandria sighs, “Mom.”

“It’s complicated, Alexandria.” She says, but it’s not the abrupt conversation-closer it would have once been. More… beseeching.

“Do you trust anyone?” Alexandria asks, “And like, I don’t even really mean me, here, but like. Anyone?”

Minerva remains silent.

“Do you trust yourself?” Alexandria asks, sounding a little alarmed.

Minerva hesitates - but she can’t really answer that one either.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, just the background roar of the mall’s crowds between them. Minerva hates this. She hates feeling like she can’t actually control herself, can’t master the emotional impulses she’s forcibly crammed into a box for years. She hates that Alexandria is having to pick up the conversation, make the overtures, do the work.

But any time she tries to think of a way to do it herself, her mind shies away from it. The words wilt and die in her throat. Because what if she gets it wrong?

What if she has more to lose?

Eventually, Alexandria looks at the melted remnants of her milkshake, and asks, “Can we stop at the Hot Topic before we leave.”

One day.

———————————

A week later, Rosie pokes her head into the common room Minerva’s reading in. “Minerva?”

She’d finally been asked point blank by one of them what she wanted to be called, because Athena no longer seemed accurate. Committing to Naiad hadn’t felt right either, so she’d given up her civilian name. Synovus already knew it, what was the point?

(It had occurred to her, later, that the small thrill she felt at being addressed by it was possibly what Alexandria felt at being addressed by her chosen name.)

(Also, it would’ve made Albion furious.)

“What is it?” Minerva asks now, letting one finger hold her place in the book as she sits up.

“There’s a fight drifting our way - Zephyr and a few others against the Eye. He’s made another floating platform again.” Rosie rolled her eyes, providing her professional opinion.

Minerva tilted her head, hesitating. Zephyr was a hero she’d worked with before, though they had never gotten along. He’d offered to take her flying, she’d taken that as flirting and shut it down, they’d never really overcome the resulting awkwardness. She had no idea who he’d be working with.

Eye, in contrast, was Eye in the Sky - a villain obsessed mostly with surveillance, and not being observed himself. He was a center point of several conspiracy theories involving the NRA, CIA, and a number of international organizations. She’d never fought him before, just heard the stories.

“What’s the protocol?” Minerva asks, rather than offer any of that information. She was certain this group of people knew far more about everyone involved anyway.

Rosie smiles, “Not much of one, just a lower alert status. Doll and I will make the rounds and check on everyone, Synovus is going to suit up just in case, but we won’t get involved unless territory agreements are breached.” She added, “Alexandria’s still on the mainland, we’ve made sure she knows to be suited if she makes her own way home.”

Minerva taps at the cover of her book, thinking. She feels adrift, still. This isn’t an actual fight, unless she wants to go and be Athena, and the idea of that is physically uncomfortable. It would also invite too many questions. Naiad would-

Hm. “Does Synovus want me in uniform?” She asks, sardonic.

“I didn’t ask and don’t plan to.” Rosie replies flippantly. “If they want you to do something, I imagine you’ll hear about it directly.”

Somehow, that isn’t the response she wants. “I don’t-“

“They also haven’t given any orders that you’re to be stopped.” Rosie points out, cutting her off. “The rest of us will be either in the operations room or up on the roof to watch. Klaxon if there’s trouble.”

She gave Minerva another smile, twiddled her fingers, and withdrew. Minerva shifted, and opened her book again.

She made it through two more paragraphs, then left it unceremoniously on the floor.

———————————-

On the roof, Synovus was pacing.

In a way, that’s reassuring, because even Minerva knew by now that if there was imminent danger, Synovus would be stock-still. The sun glints off the dark helmet, and threw the matte black of the rest of the suit into stark relief against the sandy-colored rooftop. Wind off the sea ripples through the cape, keeping it blown back, perpendicular to the path Synovus is walking.

The sun is kinder to Minerva’s costume, and there is no cape to blow. The dark mask helps keep her from being blinded by the sun. Athena wouldn’t be of much use here; Naiad might be.

Doll - the larger, Russian man who Minerva thought of as Synovus’s second in command - stood up here too, a viewfinder raised to cover his face. He’s looking into the direction of the wind, angled out and up, and Minerva follows that direction.

There it is - flashes of distant, shimmering silver in a cloud bank that’s thinning. Some masking device, most likely, now disabled. There’s tiny flashes of what must be powers or weaponry at use, but she can’t make out more than that.

“How bad is it?” She asks anyway, brisk and businesslike.

“The wind isn’t in our favor.” Doll comments. He’s always answered her as if she’s a coworker, and she appreciates that. “I can’t tell how much of it is powered and how much of it drifts. If there’s been damage to it -“ He lowers the viewfinder to make a hand gesture. “It might not be able to control its direction anymore.”

“Sloppy.” The comment is out of Minerva’s mouth before she can stop it. It draws Doll’s attention, if not Synovus’s. At the slightly raised eyebrow, she sighs and continues, “Disabling propulsion or navigation creates unnecessary risk to everyone involved. The only time it becomes necessary is when there’s weaponry that absolutely must be disabled, and you don’t have either the training or the time to sort out different power systems.”

Doll nods, offering her the viewfinder. “It could be self-inflicted,” he points out.

“Possible, but suicidal. That would require an exit strategy. Do you think Eye has one?”

“He’ll have three, only two of them will work, and none of them will be enough to keep him from getting captured.” Synovus breaks into the conversation abruptly, annoyed. Or perhaps professionally offended. “They’ll be personal craft.”

Meaning the rest of the platform’s crew would be left to die. Incentive for the heroes to try and rescue them rather than pursue, but what a waste.

The viewfinder lets Minerva get a better sense of the platform’s size, and also an estimate of its height and distance. She can make out a glimpse of a gray-shaded costume, diving through the clouds: Zephyr.

“If you interfere,” She asks, while her view is disconnected from her surroundings, “What would that look like?”

There’s a hesitation. A gust of wind snaps at Synovus’s cape. The distant battle continues.

“If they cross the boundaries, there must be consequences.” Synovus says reluctantly. “I will destroy the platform. Survivors will become my prisoners. If the heroes protest, I’ll fight them.”

Minerva lowers the viewfinder, and returns it to Doll. Synovus has stopped pacing. “You don’t have the facilities for a mass casualty event.”

“No.” Synovus agrees. “I don’t.”

————————————

Rosie has come out to join them on the roof by the time there’s significant change. The wind has died down some - likely a marker of Zephyr changing it, finally reaching their shores. The air feels thick and dead without it.

They’ve mostly stood in silence, watching. It feels longer than it has been, and Minerva knows it’ll be worse for those actually fighting. She’s surprised she hasn’t felt more of an urge to intervene.

Though she has been keeping watch for anyone falling to the water below.

It’s hard to say which of them notices first - their attention is collectively on the sky platform, and not each other. But there’s a decided tilt to the mostly-exposed metal monstrosity now, and in very short order, it begins to fall.

“Catch it.” Minerva finds herself murmuring. “Catch it. At least slow it-“

But no one does.

The platform hits the water at the full speed gained from a several thousand foot drop, slamming into the ocean. Those watching know that the metal will crumple on impact, water at that height and velocity worse than slamming into concrete. The surface area only makes it worse; tilted in at a slight angle, it displaces the water in a specific direction.

Towards the island.

Minerva had studied the ocean as much as she could. She knows this phenomena, and can cite times in the past it’s occurred. Not caused by the shifting of the ocean floor or tectonic plates, but by a sudden mass displacement.

They call it a super-tsunami.

Synovus is a statue beside her from the moment the platform starts to fall. Doll catches on once the surface of the water rises - and then doesn’t fall again.

“Three minutes.” Minerva calculates, based on distance and the probable speed of the wave. As many miles to cross. Much taller. “Evacuation?”

“The Jet is under repair, we can’t get it into the air in time.” Rosie answers, grim.

“Seals on the inner portions of the facility might hold, but we don’t know how long we’d be underwater.” Doll says, hitting the klaxon anyway. “The fridges?”

“Only as good as long as the power lasts.” Rosie replies. “Alexandria?”

“Still on the mainland.” Doll growls, running a hand through his hair. “Even if she could reach us in time, we’d have to get everyone onto the plane-“

Synovus has, so far, said nothing. Minerva is the only one close enough to catch when they choke out a strangled, “-fucking submarine -“

Minerva had expected Synovus to have a plan. A power, a strength, a defense mechanism. The realization that they don’t is like a fire’s been lit at the base of her spine.

She doesn’t remember grabbing Synovus’s collar, or dragging them to face her. She does remember saying, “I can stop it.”

Synovus doesn’t hesitate. “What do you need?”

There is no questioning of if she’s sure, or recommendation that she go into the waves to ride it out. No suggestion of running.

“Get me in front of it.”

Immediately, Synovus has one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders, and they’re running. Off the edge of the roof, not quite flying, flickers of shadow beneath their feet. Minerva doesn’t have time to question it, because her attention is on the big damn wave.

When she had said she could stop it, she had spoken with a bone-deep certainty. But she’d never actually tried to divert a tsunami before, let alone one of this size. The largest amount of water she’s worked with has always been as much as she needs to accomplish her goal, and nothing more. Diverting some rain-induced flooding is nothing compared to the power of the tides.

But she can feel the ocean beneath them, as Synovus clears the island’s coast. She can sense the oncoming wave, so fast to them, but to the ocean like a flinch in slow motion. The ocean doesn’t know how to control a fall.

But Minerva does.

The trick is in grasping the majority of the wave without over extending. She doesn’t need every droplet, every molecule, but she does need the vast majority of them.

It’s like trying to get a grip on something flat with only the pads of her fingers. It’s like misjudging a stair and finding herself both plummeting and ramming into an outside force. It’s like taking the first breath of rain-rich air in the early morning, and feeling life enter her lungs again.

Minerva twists the top back over itself, breaking the wave in the wrong direction. She cuts it down the middle, diverting it off to the sides. She forbids it to go forward, as though it’s met a cliff. And as the water falls, the wave collapsing, so does she.

It takes a brief second to put together that the body that had been holding her aloft is now limp, twisted slightly as though to put itself between her and the wave. Synovus is unresponsive, the shadows gone, only the cape whipping around them as they fall. Minerva is able to catch them, now, grabbing on before they can drift away.

She reaches for the water below them, calling it up to catch them with less than bone-breaking force. It’s easier, somehow, but also harder, and she’s having trouble fixing a direction in her mind for where the wave was and where the shore should be. Hot air, harsh wind, cool water and the dimming depths as they’re both drawn down.

And she remembers, finally, that Synovus can’t swim.

—————

The disorientation has mostly worn off by the time Synovus wakes up.

Minerva had managed to follow the upset currents, but hadn’t wanted to risk trying to shape and change them. Or to fight them overmuch, with her cargo. So they’d wound up washed not to shore, but to a small opening into one of the partial lava tubes at the island’s base.

Outside, saltwater rain is still falling, though it will stop soon. The ocean’s roar sounds, to her ears, slightly confused. The sun is still shining, and the wind has picked up again. ‘Calm’ is a subjective definition, but they’re approaching it.

Minerva had been relieved to find that Synovus’s helmet was intact, even with the impact to the water. She’d managed to find its clasps, and to remove it, making sure the seals had also held and that Synovus wasn’t drowning in their own personal fishbowl. They’re propped up against her legs, which are folded beneath her, and she’s prepared for a violent awakening.

But Synovus’s eyes blink open, and Minerva is able to watch their facial muscles work as they come to terms with their surroundings.

“You fainted.” Minerva informs them.

Synovus squints at her, but doesn’t immediately protest. They also don’t try to move much, other than a slight squirm that Minerva recognizes as a full body check. Do I still have my appendages? Do my fingers and toes all work?

“Yeah.” Synovus concedes. Their voice is raspy with saltwater, even though they didn’t get much of a chance to drown. This time.

Minerva should probably start somewhere else - like making certain they’re okay, or assuring them about the conditions outside, that the wave had been averted. Instead, she all but demands, “If you’re so terrified of water, why in the hells did you build on an island?”

She can see the balk in Synovus’s expression: a furrowing of their brow, a twitch of the nose. Synovus lifts a hand to consider covering their face, eyes the sand on their glove, and lowers it again.

“I already know you can’t swim.” Minerva says flatly.

“I can swim.” Synovus shoots back, annoyed. “I cannot swim well, there’s a difference.”

They sigh, and move to sit up. Minerva doesn’t stop them. She doesn’t expect an answer, at least not without further prompting, but Synovus continues:

“It’s… easier. The isolation. Clearly defined borders. This is mine, everyone else fuck off. And it…” Synovus shakes their head. “It serves its purpose.”

Once, Minerva would’ve accused them of grandstanding. Of the island being a show of wealth and status. She knows better now - knows that while that is true, there’s other reasons, layered beneath.

And she thinks about everything Synovus has ever told her about self control.

“It contains you.”

Synovus hesitates, partially grimacing, but nods. “Serves its purpose.” They repeat quietly.

The two of them sit in silence, in the dark shadow of the cave. They listen to the water, and the waves as they return to normal.

“Thank you.” Synovus says, into the silence.

“I don’t require thanks.”

“But I feel you deserve it, and it’s mine to give.”

“And if I don’t want it?”

“Refuse it. I will survive the disappointment.”

Minerva has the uncomfortable feeling that they are not discussing only gratitude. Rather than address that, or continue the discussion, she says instead: “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

Synovus doesn’t reply. They tilt their head, studying her in the dark. Minerva’s dragged them into a cave and confronted them with truths after they passed out from fear doing something on her word, she should give them a break. She doesn’t.

“I should be out there looking for survivors, or recovering the dead. I don’t want to. I should’ve involved myself in the fight, reminded them to be careful of the platform’s vulnerabilities. I didn’t. I don’t feel guilt. I feel… annoyed. Angry. Because they should’ve known better.”

Synovus just turns a bit, to rest their back against a rock. “And that in turn makes you feel..?”

“Foolish. Arrogant. A bad hero, and a worse teacher. I should be patient. Forgiving.”

“They nearly killed you.” Synovus points out dryly. “You’re allowed to be angry about that.”

“And more would’ve died if the wave had reached the coast.” Minerva grits her teeth. “But that anger should be - I can’t control them. I cannot fix them. But I didn’t even try to intervene until it was almost too late.”

“But you did intervene.”

Minerva gestures, attempts to pinpoint the logic fruitless and frustrated. “Am I a hero or not?” She demands. “Do I act for others or only my own skin? I’ve spent years - decades - so sure of the answer but now -“

She raises her hands, half-fisting them in her hair. The sensation provides a little bit of grounding, enough of a distraction she doesn’t think about the words before she says them. “- now you make sense to me, and the things I thought I believed in enough to die for are - are hollow or gone or dead. And I let you kill them. I let you kill him.”

Abruptly, she draws her knees up, burying her face in them. “I let - I made - my child - our child -“

Minerva can’t tell if she’s crying or not. Her breath is coming in gasps, and her face feels hot, and this was always the part of weeping that she hated the most; the lack of control, the inability to communicate. Her eyes burn. So does the center of her chest, her stomach.

And Synovus is here, as her witness. Why not? They’ve seen every other ugly part of her, every other failure. She’s spent a good portion of her adult life fighting this person, exchanging scars, only for them to pick up the pieces and try to protect her. She’s finally had the upper hand, proven that she does have power, that Synovus now owes her in the brutal calculus of lives, and instead of reassuring her it’s broken her.

Because Synovus doesn’t trust themself either.

But Synovus trusts her.

“Do you wish I wouldn’t have killed Albion?” Synovus asks quietly.

The answer is as simple and certain as the water. “No.” She says honestly. “No I - I don’t.”

There’s a pause. Then, “Do you wish I would’ve killed you too?”

That answer isn’t as clear to find. “I - some days.” She says hoarsely. “I committed the same crimes.”

Synovus exhales, across from her, and it isn’t quite a sigh. “Alexandria feels differently.”

Minerva stops breathing.

Of all the answers Synovus could’ve given, that’s the one she can’t counter. She can’t afford to do this. To wallow in self recrimination. Her daughter is out there. And while maybe - maybe her morals are falling to pieces, and she doesn’t know who she is, but she knows that whoever she is loves Alexandria.

“Is it pathetic?” She asks Synovus, in the dark she can’t see through and Synovus can. “To need someone else to determine who I am. What I believe.”

She can hear the twist in Synovus’s expression as they reply, “That’s… inherently not a question I can answer. But, Minerva?” Synovus doesn’t hesitate, so much as pick their way across uncertain footing, “I don’t think you would’ve been able to turn back that wave if you weren’t… as much as you are.”

It’s clumsily phrased. Wavering and uncertain. But Minerva, whether because she’s reading what she wants to from it, or because it’s actually Synovus’s intention, understands.

She takes a deep breath. Then another. Then she stands, and offers a hand in Synovus’s general direction. Her voice is much more certain, calm, when she says, “I need to go organize a search party.”

——————

Minerva may not ever come to terms with her role in her ex-husband’s death, or the harm she caused her daughter. She might not ever find the rock-solid beliefs that she once thought she had.

But she might - just might - come to terms with that uncertainty. The ocean doesn’t have roots either.

She’ll have good days and bad days. She’ll need to make decisions about who she wants to become, and how she feels about who she is. But as both Naiad, and Minerva, she has that freedom.

She’ll never touch the Athena costume again.

And one day, while she’s working on a laptop in one of the common rooms, Synovus on one of the other couches and Alexandria sprawled on the floor, Minerva will say, “I have an idea. Something I’d like to do about the Pacific garbage patch.”

And Alexandria will roll over to look at her, and Synovus will glance up. And Minerva will add, “It’s not precisely legal.”

And Synovus will say, “I’m listening.”

——————————

[And so ends Siren Call! This took much longer than it’s other pieces, and there were things I debated including and things I wanted to cut, but in the end, this was the flow the story took. I’m not saying I’m *done* with Synovus and co, but I will say that I’m glad to have this chapter closed and tied off.]

[As per usual, a copy of this will go up on Ao3 soon, and I’ll find out how long it is, because I’ve once again written directly into tumblr drafts. It’s where the Synovus muse lives, apparently.]

#synoverse #synovus #siren call #siren call 3 #tw: tsunami #as someone whose stress dreams manifest as dreams about tsunamis #HOO BOY did I not like writing that scene much #but it was what needed to happen #and I’m happy with how it turned out #dont @ me about the physics I will not be studying any more about those damn things #it’s magic I ain’t gotta explain shit

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sports-on-sundays · 6 months

Note

Hello! Can you maybe write a clumsy reader x Lando Norris or Charles Leclerc??

Like how he gets worried about how she always gets injured such as accidentally burning herself or accidentally dropping a glass.

accident prone / CL16

Summary: Charles x clumsy!girlfriend!reader - Charles is usually pretty cool, but when it comes to you, he can be just a bit of a fussbudget. Who can blame him, though? You yourself have kind of got your head in the clouds most of the time.

Warnings: wrote this one in past tense because I felt like it, censored swearing, this one is honestly just really silly, blood, Charles being very protective

Requested?: Uh huh!

Author's Note: Thanks for another request. :)

Really, you were the paddock's big joke. And you didn't mind at all. Being Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, you hung around a lot. Especially since your boyfriend practically begged you to come to nearly every single Grand Prix. So, yeah. You were around a lot.

Which was why you were kind of the paddock's big joke. It wasn't like you were trying to be. It was like the way you were. Carlos told you that you were bringing it upon yourself. Maybe so, but you weren't trying to. It was just one too many clips of you tripping on air, walking into walls, dropping important things you were holding for someone, and the like. One time you were having a conversation with a few of the guys (because although obviously Charles was your man, you got along well with the other drivers) and when Max happened to say something particularly humorous, you sprayed the coffee you had been drinking out of your nose at the same time as dropping it. It splashed onto Lando's shoe. He, who was pretty annoyed (understandably so) had said something like, in a rather teasing, lighthearted tone, regardless, "My God, f*ck you, Y/n! My shoe! You're such a klutz!"

To that, you had stuck your tongue out at him and countered, "You're being over dramatic, rich boy! It's not like you can't easily buy yourself a new pair!"

While you admittedly were certainly pretty clumsy, you had a sharp mind. Still, you were humble enough to not mind being the grid's laughingstock. Everyone understood it was lighthearted.

Well, not everyone. There was one person who seemed to have issues with the whole thing. And it was your own boyfriend. Charles.

Referring to the story of spilling coffee on Lando's shoe again- as soon as you had finished with your comeback, suddenly Charles was next to you with his arm around your shoulder. He had been- well, not around. But somehow he must have heard and rushed to your side, because the look he had given Lando was honestly priceless as he asked the younger man, concerned, "What the hell did she do to make you say that to her?" He sounded so offended- more offended than you were yourself.

Lando had looked honestly nervous. "Max made her laugh so she spilled coffee on my shoe!"

"Mate, you're blaming it on me?" was Max's reaction, before looking at the imaginary watch on his wrist and saying, "Look at the time! Got to go."

"You know, just so happens, me too!" was what Lando said with a giggle, and the two had gone off. You were sure that as the two walked away together, they made fun of Charles and his little ways. But Charles wouldn't have minded. Because the only time Charles got defensive was when someone was bothering you.

Now, though, you were away from the paddock and racing. Now you were at home, thinking about all this as you smiled to yourself, standing next to the stove, waiting for the water for tea to boil. Charles was still in bed and had had an exhausting last weeks, so you thought he might like a little breakfast when he finally stirred.

Suddenly the tea kettle started squealing, and you quickly grabbed the it, hoping not to wake up your boyfriend in the other room. You started pouring the water in Charles' mug, and swore loudly when your hand bumped the kettle. You groaned. That's gonna leave a burn. You finished pouring the boiling water and ran your hand under lukewarm water as it steeped. You sighed, shaking your head, and very carefully, with shaky hands, put two pieces of bread in the toaster. Then you grabbed a glass and the orange juice from the fridge, but just as you were about to pour it, your hip bumped the counter and the glass slipped right out of your hand, shattering on the floor with a loud crash that made you flinch and grit your teeth. "For f*ck's sake!" you snapped, unable to hold it back. You sighed, reaching for the broom, but just then, a sleepy, disoriented Charles entered the room, with furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, still shirtless and wearing pajama pants. "Careful, love," you murmured. "Broken glass."

"Hmmm," he yawned, rubbing his eye. "What's going on? You okay, baby?"

"Yeah, I am," you started, starting to step around the glass pile to Charles, but wobbled and lost your balance, about to fall but- Charles, even having just woken up, caught you with a little chuckle. He helped you steady yourself and you sighed, shaking your head as you met him. "Anyway, yeah. I'm fine. I was... I feel bad. I was trying to make you some surprise breakfast, but... Clearly, I woke you up."

"Oh..." he smiled, naturally pulling you to him. "That's sweet..." Suddenly though, he saw your hand, and his brow grew concerned. He took your burnt hand, holding it up. "What's this?"

"Oh, uh," you giggled, glancing away. "Tea kettle."

"Hm. Looks like you had quite the-"

Suddenly you squeaked and flinched as the toaster popped behind you. You then broke out into laughing at yourself at being so frightened, and Charles teased, grabbing the broom, "Good thing you weren't holding a glass this time, huh? Babe, I really appreciate all this, really. But I'll clean up the glass and everything, and then I'll take my breakfast. Thanks, love."

You nodded, slowly leaving the kitchen, honestly feeling kind of bad. Really bad. You were trying to do something nice, and now he was in there, cleaning up your mess. No matter how many times he always told you it was okay, you were never fully convinced. Doesn't he get tired of me and my stupid little mistakes? Doesn't he get tired of always walking behind me and picking up the mess I leave?

When he came into the dining room with his breakfast, he thanked you wholeheartedly, gave you a damp cool rag for your burn, and got eating.

"Whoa, lovely, watch out," Charles said, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to him, making you stumble a bit.

"What was that for, hm?" you frowned.

He smiled and somehow managed to say in the kindest way possible, "You were so busy looking up at the beautiful blue sky, you almost ran straight into that wall. What'cha daydreaming about?"

"Hmmm..." you glanced to his eyes, which in the bright lighting reflected just a slightly more grey version of the sky above. "You." You winked.

"How sweet," he smiled, gesturing to the Ferrari garage. Yes, you really were about to just walk right past it. Neither of you mentioned it, of course. As he left for his duties, though, he gave you a little wink and said, "Those high-heels are lovely, by the way. Just be careful." You clicked your tongue, but you knew he was right. Last time you wore heels at a Grand Prix, you ended up tripping over them and scraping both your knees. Charles had worriedly asked 'Are you alright?' so many times someone could have assumed you had just had a seizure or something instead of just tripping and falling. You had reassured him, as blood dripped down your legs, that you were just fine. He had rushed you back inside and made sure your legs got fixed up. For the rest of the weekend, you had hobbled around in sneakers and barely bent your legs because it hurt to bend the skin on your knees. It pretty much sucked, and fans on social media made fun of you almost as much as the other drivers on the grid, but you hadn't minded. The worst part was the pain- being made fun of was just fine. But of course it didn't go on for long, because Charles took whatever avenues that were necessary to put an end to people making fun of his girlfriend like that.

Charles had said after that whole thing something like, 'Y/n, you need to be more careful! You can't worry me like that, love!' which you found humorous, considering that over twenty weekends a year he went into basically a rocket ship and raced a bunch of other guys in other rocket ships, and made you worry sick. Either way, that was really the weekend when Charles' whole anxiety over your little accidents really started.

Before qualifying today, though, you made sure to catch Charles and give him a kiss, saying, "Don't crash."

He smiled gracefully and said back, "I won't. You don't crash, either, though."

You rolled your eyes with a little smile, gave him another kiss on the cheek, and he was off.

"Charlie! Nice job, dude!" you congratulated your boyfriend. You gave him a high five, and he gave you a hug. "Starting in a great position for tomorrow, love. Congrats!"

He chuckled. "Thanks, Y/n. I'm gonna go change. Be right back."

You nodded, and Charles walked off, but got caught in a conversation. When Carlos strolled in, you went to congratulate him as well, but of course.

You could feel it in slow motion. You foot getting caught, your other foot stepping forward, the force of gravity pulling you down, down-

You suddenly squealed though when unfamiliar arms caught you. After a second of disorientation, you realized it had been Carlos, who was now saying, "Holy sh*t, Y/n. You could've cracked your skull. Every day life with you is more dangerous than the life of being a Formula One driv-"

Suddenly, though, Mr. Protect Y/n At All Costs (Charles Leclerc), grabbed your hand, pulling you to him, away from Carlos, and said, "What the hell, you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," you said, honestly just embarrassed, glancing to Carlos.

"Sorry, Charles, I didn't want her to crack her skull," Carlos said after Charles sent him a nasty look. "You should be thanking me." Carlos gave his teammate a playful shove on the shoulder and walked away.

"Why don't you sit down and wait for me?" was Charles' suggestion.

"Right."

That night as you drove to the hotel, went inside, got ready for bed, and had a little snack, you didn't speak a word to Charles, and anytime he tried to talk, you didn't have much to say back to him.

Finally, as you finished your little snack, Charles sat down next to you, taking both your hands in his, saying gently and completely seriously, "Y/n, clearly something is wrong. Please know that you can tell me. Was it something that happened today? Did someone bother you? Was it what happened with Carlos?"

"No, no, Charles, they're fine," you murmured, sipping your water. "What Carlos did is fine, too. Good." You tried to show a little lighthearted smile, but maybe it just came off as seeming sarcastic as you said, "I mean, thank God for Carlos. Otherwise I might be in the hospital with a cracked open head, right?"

Charles, as expected, didn't buy it, and took your hands in both of his, saying earnestly with big, worried eyes, "You can tell me what's bothering you, Y/n. I want to help you."

Your jaw clenched as you murmured, "That's just it, Charles. That's the problem."

"What is?" he asked, looking so seriously and utterly confused, it might have been funny if it had been in another situation. "That I want to help you?!"

"No," you shook your head, looking down. "That I need your help. I feel so bad. I'm always messing things up- breaking stuff, hurting myself, being all jumpy. And along with everything else you have to worry about, you feel like you need to worry about me, too. You're just always there, looking out for me and fixing all my dumb mistakes. It's so stupid- but my clumsiness is actually becoming a problem. I don't even care if drivers or the internet make fun of me. It's just, like... you're so protective of me and it's because I can't stay on my two own f*cking feet. I mean, that must be so hard for you- don't you get exasperated with me? I mean I'm fine on my own. But oh my God, I feel like a little kid! You had to tell me not to run into a f*cking wall! A wall! I don't know, Charles... Aren't you sick of me? Aren't I a burden to you?"

The look Charles gave you was probably a mixture of confusion, sympathy, love, and exasperation. Which was a very strange mix, for a very strange expression, before he said, "You aren't a burden to me at all, Y/n... Babe, I love helping you. And, okay, we all have those days when there's a lot on our minds and we do stupid things. You make it seem like everyday there's another thing. There's not. Maybe three times a week you do something a little silly. But I know you. When you're nervous, your head is kind of in the clouds, and you trip up. Literally. On race weekends, you do. And the other thing you always do..." He hesitated, before getting more serious, saying quieter, "Sometimes I think you try so hard to please me, and you get nervous."

You stare, eyes wide. Because you hadn't even realized it, but he was right.

"You don't have to worry about that," he continued gently. "You already please me, without trying. Because I love you and you're gorgeous. You're right that you can take care of yourself, but I like being there for you. I like helping you out, okay?" He leaned in and gently planted a kiss on your cheek. "Besides, I think you being a little accident prone is cute."

"Accident prone and cute, huh?" You looked up, a soft smile appearing on your face and a little giggle in your voice as you leaned closer to him, relief rushing though you, and giving him a cheek kiss back. "I like that."

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months

Text

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Part two! Writing was all I could think about today. Thank you for the love. It's been a hot minute since something brewed in my brain. 🤍✨

warnings: blood, violence, past trauma,

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Finding a way to focus had been hard the past couple of weeks. Azriel felt like a ghost who had pledged the sanctuary. He barely got out of his room, and if he did, he twirled around in the shadows. Watching. Hacking. It was an unsettling feeling at times. Feeling those golden eyes burning holes into your back. Listening in on your conversation. Yet every time you would turn towards where the phantom feeling of him lingered, you were met with nothing. A space where you had hoped to find him.

"Invite him to the communal. It sure must not feel nice to be left behind", Padme, the high priestess, casually said just the other night when you brought her all the paperwork you had sorted through. "He is free to come, P. He ain't a prisoner", you stated blankly. Focusing solely on the piles of papers as you arranged them. "You're being neglectful, my dear", those words made you look up as you frowned. "He is not my responsibility. I'm not assigned to him. I don't...", you stuttered on, crossing your arms around your chest defensively. "And yet... Our high lord had called for you specifically", she trialed off. A knowing, ancient smile painted her lips. You knitted your eyebrows as hard as you could, trying to look frustrated, but that only made the high priestess chuckle. You had wanted to find a strong enough counterargument for her statement, but your words failed you. So you bowed your head to her before walking away.

"Is he an ancient spirit?", Zofie, the young fea girl, asked as she looked up at you, making you crack a smile. Some of the kids have been more than observant. But then it was hard to miss a male of Azriel's size. And while grown women didn't spare him a second glance, the kids had grown curious. "That's an Illyrian soldier, Zo", Axel said, rolling his eyes at the younger girl. You questioned your choice the closer you got to the spymaster's room. He might very well not even be there. And even more so, he might have another outburst. And you had brought kids with you...

"Well, how would I know? I'm only little", Zofie stomped her little feet, making grabby hands at you. You shook your head at them. "Why don't you two ask him all of your questions yourself?", you suggested, right as the wooden door at the end of the hall came into view. You halted once more, but your lingering steps were outmatched by Axel, who had sprinted down the hall before you could even open your mouth.

Azriel had been trying to summon a bottle of whiskey for over an hour now. He was tired and frustrated with the lack of communication Rhys was willing to engage in. The only thing the high lord was willing to say was that Elain had gone with Lucien. She was in autumn. That had made the spymaster curse Rhys in all the languages he spoke. He was about to list all the reasons why that trip was not a good idea when Rhys shut him off completely.

Now he was sitting on the floor. Shoulders slumped. He looked ahead of himself. One of his shadows had flustered before moving towards the door, ripping at the handle. "I'm not going anywhere. So drop it", the spymaster had muttered. But the shadow didn't budge, nudging the metal tightly as a knock sounded, making Azriel look to the side. He was ready to ignore it. The last thing he needed was to deal with more nonsense, but then the thought struck him. What if it was you? What if this was his chance to get you to tell him how to get out of this place? If he caught you here, he would still have time to interrogate you spymaster style, and then...

Azriel grabbed the handle, spreading his wings behind him as he frowned. Yanking the door open. No one met his eyes. There was nothing there. Azriel was almost sure of it. Until a loud gasp filled his ears and something light hit the floor. "Axel", the sound made Azriel peer into the hallway. That's when he noticed you rushing towards him. That's when he noticed a tiny frame curled on the floor. Tiny leathery wings draped around the shaking body.

Azriel's wings sagged. He reached his hand out, but you were quick to stand in between them, your eyes wide as you stared at the spymaster. "Are you insane?", you said through gritted teeth, turning to look back at the trembling body. "Hey, Ax. It's all okay. No one will hurt you", Azriel watched as you carefully moved to brush your fingers through the boy's hair. A tiny, trembling hand reached out towards you. You took it without hesitation. The girl whom you had carried up to this point stood slightly to the side, her tiny palms pressed into her eyes. She was hiding. Scared because of... Azriel quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean...", you turned his way, his soft gaze replaced by a burning anger. "Who even opens a door like that?". Azriel was about to bite back when the boy looked up at him, muttering, "Wow..."

"Axel...", you questioned him, worry lacing your features as you watched him. "You're big... and your wings", the boy said, his eyes now fully on Azriel. You bit the inside of your cheek. Pulling Zofie closer to your embrace. The dark twirl swam towards the boy, and you were about to seize it with your magic until it ruffled Axel's hair softly, nuzzling against the boy's cheek, making him chuckle.

You swallowed thickly before turning back to Azriel and saying, "We came to invite you to the communal but...", to the sound of which both of the kids perked up. "We learned a new song", Axel said, "Zofie dances with the ribbons. Right, Zo?", He pulled at the girl's skirt, but she didn't lift her head from your shoulder. Something ached deep within Azriel. He craved fear. At this point, he was convinced that no one would ever learn to look at him any differently but watch kids shake at the sight of him... He had watched them for some time now. A part of why he had stuck to the shadows was because he didn't want to scare the younglings. He doubted seeing a big, bulky male—there were no other males here, as Azriel had noted—would make them feel safe.

"I'll come", Azriel said, thinking about reaching for the girl but choosing against it. She looked so small, clinging to you. He had made a child frightened. He had never... Azriel felt a small palm wrapping around his two fingers. "I'll show you the pool we have; well, it's not a pool, but... you'll see", Axel chirped, already dragging Azriel down the hall. You were about to protest. As it was, you had a long list of reasons why Azriel shouldn't come at all. He met your gaze. You watched him. Was he silently asking for your permission? You gave him a tight glare before nodding.

The kids were in their element, as always. Singing loudly as they danced together. Axel was up in the front lines, his eyes not leaving Azriel. Zofie had slipped off your lap midway through the third song and was happily twirling with her pink ribbon in hand. Azriel sat beside you. You could tell that he was uncomfortable. You doubted he watched the children much. You even doubted that he understood just how important it was for Axel that he was here. Azriel's eyes were scanning the place. Memorizing faces. You let out a sigh, and that seemed to have done the job because the spymaster lowered his gaze toward you.

"You know, you're an asshole", you said while plastering a smile on your face. Azriel huffed, "Says you", crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm sorry, but out of the two of us...", you trailed off, shaking your head.

"You brought kids as backup", Azriel snarled once more. Now these words made you look right at him as you growled, "You wanted to break my neck". Azriel gave you a puzzled look. "Oh, don't look at me like ancient Mother Sun; you think I'm that stupid? You would have leaped at me once more", your words had come up more like an accusation than you would have liked. "For the record, I wasn't going to break your neck", Azriel muttered. Even more frustrated by your last statement now. "Oh, my apologies. Locking me up? Hanging me up from a ceiling? A bit more your style?", you rolled your eyes at him. Azriel gritted his teeth. You were getting on his nerves slowly, but then the fact that you thought he might break your neck... Oddly enough, he hated that. Azriel wanted to be far away from being a predator. He didn't want to inflict harm or fear. Slowly, he started to wonder about how much he still didn't know. Not just about this place, but himself. Another stab ripped past his chest, and Azriel let out a tight sigh. Clapping erupted around the room. Azriel joined in mindlessly, turning his head slightly your way and saying, "I'm so...", but he was met with an empty chair. Azriel's eyes darted around the room. He searched for the two kids as well but was met with a crowd of faces that didn't have any meaning to him. Azriel let out a frustrated growl, tightening his fists.

The candlelight was barely visible. Your eyes were burning from tiredness. You knew that you weren't going to get anything more done, but you refused to leave your study. It was the only place where you didn't feel him. And heaps of paperwork had managed to shove him out of your brain. It was bad enough that Axel talked about him until he eventually fell asleep. Padme, however, had given you a dissatisfied look. And you knew she was right, but you too had your reasons. You weren't a babysitter. There were no direct implications that it had to be you who monitored Azriel's behavior here. You knew that Rhys had eyes of his own here. He didn't need weekly reports. You blew out the last remaining candle. Not having enough energy to care about the scattered papers all over the table.

Rubbing your eyes, you moved towards the door. Opening them up with a spell. And you wished you hadn't the moment you did. A mortified scream left your lips. A hand clasped over your mouth. Flickers of your magic sparked, cracking the solid wall of darkness. "It's just me", you shoved your palms against Azriel's chest. "You're a sick bastard", you said, pointing an angry finger at the spymaster. To your surprise, he let out a low chuckle, making you huff. "How dare you laugh?", you moved to fix your dress. Trying to hide the tremble in your palms. "You're running away from me", Azriel stated calmly. You gave him a daring look and said, "I am not inclined to see you".

Azriel watched you. Even in the dim hallway, there was no way he could deny that there was something about you. The way you carried yourself You had proven your point that night in Azriel's room when you drew his consciousness away from him. He knew you had magic lurking deep within. But even that didn't seem like something that would call to him. "But you can answer some of my questions", he stated blankly. You shook your head in disbelief. "You did all of this so you could ask me a question? Under what rock have you been raised?", you stepped closer to him. Here. Here it was. That daring glare made something deep flick within Azriel.

"You'll have to forgive me. I was the one to wake up in a place I knew nothing of", he snarled back. Taking the last step towards you. Fully towering over your frame. Your head was now drawn up, so you could keep eye contact with him. "But I wasn't the one who went for a mated...", You cut yourself off. A bitter taste coating your mouth. The fire in your eyes died down. "Say it", Azriel muttered through gritted teeth. You watched him. You had no right to judge, and you didn't. "Everyone knows about it, don't they? You tried to make a fool out of me by dragging me to that circus today?", Now his words were drenched with venom. You had nudged a sleeping tiger. "That was not a circus. Communal is for children", your voice was small. Azriel let out a bitter laugh. "Is that what Rhys wanted? To humiliate me", there was pain so deep within him that even your bones ached.

"And you... you're here to orchestrate it", he snarled, stepping away from you. You suddenly felt so little. You had no intention of making Azriel feel like a fool. He shook his head one more time before he turned to step away. "Azriel...", you called out, stepping forward to grab his hand. Forgetting all boundaries. Losing control over your mental shields. The moment your hand touched his, all you managed was to take one more inhale before a ray of vision flashed right in front of you.

Azriel felt as if he was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. As flashes and flashes of what seemed to be memories glimmered through his mind, he saw the sanctuary. An elderly lady. Coldness and pain. Something that reminded him of the basement he had been locked in. Then there was Rhys. Illyrian camps. Angry males. A fire. Shouting females. Scattered wings. Blood. Shrieking children. He tried to move. He was unsure if it was real or just in his mind. But when he lifted his hands, bloody palms met him.

You yanked your hand back. Breathing heavily. Azriel was panting too. He blinked a couple of times. Eyes darting to your trembling frame. Your cheeks glisten with tears. Void grew deep within the spymaster's chest. Azriel moved to step closer, but you put out an arm in front of yourself. "I won't hurt you", his voice was the softest you had ever heard from him before. Yet you still shook your head, muttering a quiet, "I'm sorry".

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel acotar imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger

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