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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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Holy Ground - Chapter 3

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

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

The library was supposed to be a safe space. The priestesses were supposed to be sheltered there.

A place far away from the terrors of the world. A place where they could study and learn far from the grasp of those who would harm them.

But clearly today that peace had been destroyed, Rhys reflected weakly.

Merrill was dead.

Neither Cassian or Rhys had let Gwyn see the…carnage of that, Nesta and Emerie bracketing her away from…her fellow priestesses’ corpse…and Irena…

Rhys had to keep repeating the words to himself, over and over again. Like a litany, a prayer, desperately trying to make them stick.

Irena was alive. Irena would be fine.

She would be alright, even though she looked so, so pale, deathly pale in Azriel's arms.

Irena.

Irena, who Azriel had saved around two centuries ago…

Not from the horrors of the war but from her husband.

The daughter of a merchant, married off young, to one of the richest men in the midlands…she had been raised to run an estate…had excelled at it in fact. And her husband had excelled in killing young girls.

The things he had put her through... The things he had done...

Azriel, who had found her and brought her to Velaris had been shocked that she'd stayed in one piece to be honest. Rhys had been shocked too.

And once she had been in the library…she had excelled once more.

Rhys had gotten long used to see her handwriting, not long suffering Clotho’s, fill out the sheets with expenditures and acquisitions.

She had cut the fat, made sure that the House of Wind was self sufficient, thanks to research requests being able to be submitted, thanks to patents and the gardens…

Irena had been a godssend. Literally.

Rhys wasn't quite sure how they had survived before her.

But the last fucking thing he had expected was that…her and Azriel were…mates.

Rhysand had not seen that coming in a million years

But there was no question about it.

If Irena's thoughts, an utter mess of shock and pain and grief and agony...with the only thing that ran through it the whole time was her thread to Azriel wouldn't have been a dead giveaway...then it would have been Azriel's behaviour.

Azriel who had gone on his knees next to the priestess, his hands slick with her blood and had simply clung to her. He had begged her, his voice broken.

Rhys would never forget the sound of his brother's voice, the pure desperation bleeding from every single letter. Please. We haven't had enough time. I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight. Don't you dare. Open your eyes. Look at me, love. You can't go. Fight.

That look on Azriel's face as he had held her close, refusing to let go as he tried to will her back from death's clutches. The words he had kept murmuring like a prayer. A desperate mantra to the Mother, the Cauldron, anyone who would listen.

Azriel was never the most expressive of them. He rarely even showed a flicker of emotion for most things. To see him lose so much control, to beg. To see tears in his eyes. None of them had ever seen him like that before, had ever even considered the possibility of him acting like that.

He was always composed. Always calm, collected, in control. To see him on his knees next to Irena, begging her not to leave as he pressed kisses to her forehead and kept telling her to stay with him…

For a moment, it had felt like he had forgotten the others even existed. That nothing had mattered except her pulse, the slight rise and fall of her chest. The only thing that had mattered to him in that moment was that she was still with him, still alive.

She was important to him. There was no question about it.

Sometime during the last few years, that Priestess had become the Shadowsinger’s whole focus.

Sometime in the past, Irena had become Azriel's whole world.

And Rhys hadn't known. Had known nothing about this.

He could feel the guilt clawing up inside him.

Rhys had had no fucking clue this was happening, right underneath his nose.

That he had never noticed that Azriel's eyes lingered on Irena…had never noticed that Azriel sought her company…hadn’t known that Azriel had spent time with her…

Rhys hadn't known. Hadn't...hadn't even thought about it.

Azriel had pulled back from them after that catastrophic solstice and Rhys had let him. Had thought that Azriel needed to lick his wounds...that maybe then he would see it Rhysand's way...but none of this happened.

Azriel had kept his anger tightly leashed, even though Rhys had gotten a taste of it every time he badgered him. But Azriel hadn’t exploded.

Instead, he had been vicious in throwing Rhysan’ own words back into his face.

There didn’t pass one day where Rhys didn’t regret that one sentence, because Azriel was clearly… furious about it.

Azriel had grown distant...cold...unfeeling. And Rhys had badgered him and got on his nerves and figured that if Azriel would just get it out of his system… but he didn't. Didn't get angry. Didn't fight. Didn't scream...Rhys would have preferred it if he did.

What wouldn't he give to have that old Azriel back, the one who actually got mad? Who didn't just accept everything with a nod and a word of acknowledgment. Who talked to Rhysand, who told him when he'd done something wrong. Who fought with him if he went too far, who made his opinion known. Who told him to his face when he was being an arrogant prick, who didn't just accept his commands with a quiet nod.

But now it made sense. Azriel hadn't fucking cared what Rhys did, what any of the did, because his priorities had been rearranged completely. As long as he could get home to his priestess...he hadn't cared.

He did all the missions Rhys had for him and then went home to the House of Wind and found one quiet corner or another to romance his mate, out of the view from everybody else.

And that was the worst part. That Rhys had been such a prick to Azriel, so wrapped up in his own worries, his own fears, that he hadn't even noticed that something had shifted so fundamentally in his brother. Had pushed him so far away.

Rhys had thought that they were simply…in a rought spot. That in a few years, Azriel would be over Elain and it would be done. But now Rhys realised that…that it wasn’t about Elain. Not really.

Rhys had never realized how deep this was, how close to the breaking point he'd taken his brother.

Deep enough that the fact that Azriel had found his mate...that was something that Azriel didn't share with any of them. Something that happy... Azriel had just kept silent.

Azriel hadn’t trusted them with the most treasured and precious thing in his life.

And that hurt. Hurt more than he could put into words.

That Azriel had found the one person who he was destined for, the only one who was perfect for him in the entire world. The one person who would love and cherish him, who would complete him, who would accept him as he was, who would understand him...and he hadn't told Rhys. Hadn't told any of them.

Azriel hadn't told anyone that he had found his mate.

Had kept that to himself for who knew how long. Just how long had it been? When had he figured out they were mated?

“Bring her to her room,” Madja said at the moment. And Rhys watched as seemingly some colour went back into Irena's cheeks, her eyes closed, her breathing still laboured…her mind filled with Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. and Safe, Safe, Safe.

“My room,” Azriel corrected, his voice fierce. The mating instincts must have gone completely haywire at that very moment, not soothed at all, even when he had pressed a kiss against her forehead moments before.

.“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply, staring at Azriel, then at still, quiet Irena. She seemed to be utterly shell-shocked, not that Rhys could fault her.

"Gwyn," Rhys said carefully. It was best if none of them...interfered right now. This was between Azriel and his mate.

"Az, how long have the two of you..." Cassian asked, clearly having come to the same conclusion, but Rhys interrupted him. *Leave him be,* he warned their brother.

*Leave him be?! I had no idea that he and Irena are...whatever the fuck they are!*

“Two years. She’s my mate,” Azriel answered, not even looking at any of them, completely concentrated on said mate.

"Mate," Irena agreed weakly. "Mine."

"Yours," Azriel agreed, his voice hoarse, as he picked her up carefully like his mate was made out of spun glass. "Let's tuck you into bed, Love," he told her softly.

And off his spymaster went carrying the priestess that was his mate.

Rhys could just stare after them.

"Did you know?" Cassian demanded sharply.

"I had absolutely no fucking clue," Rhys admitted weakly.

He felt the guilt swirling inside him, deep and bitter and vicious. He should have known. He should have realized and supported Azriel.

But it had been Rhys who had pushed him so far away that he hadn't told him. That he didn't even think that he could tell Rhys that he had found his mate.

And it hurt. Gods, it hurt. To know that Azriel had kept something that he should have been so happy about to himself just so he wouldn't have to deal with Rhys's bullshit.

Cassian started barking orders...About a stretcher and about Merrill's body...It would be taken away and prepared for the last rites.

It wasn't often that one of the priestesses died. It wasn't...They were safe here. They were supposed to be safe here...but whatever happened in this room…

“What even happened?” Rhys asked, as he turned around to surview the carnage.

It was bad. Really bad.

“Irena went to talk to Merill, because Merrill got…angry with one of the newer acolytes…” Gwyn said, her voice shaky. “Merrill was in a bad mood because Irena forbid her newest research project.”

Her newest research project? It was well known that Merrill was brilliant. So for Irena to…

"Why did she forbid it?" Rhys asked curiously.

"It involved some form of spell crafting. Irena wanted Merrill to have supervision from a spellcrafter, because it was a language that none of us actually understood and we didn’t eve know about what kind of spell it was…Merill didn't think that was needed," Gwyn said weakly, wiping away tears. "And now look where that got us. God, how could Merrill be this stupid?"

"It wasn't stupidity, it was probably arrogance," Cassian said with a sigh. "It's dumb luck that only...that only Irena got hurt.

Rhys couldn't but agree with Cassian's assessment. It was a miracle that Irena was alive. That she'd survived when Merrill’s body was…near unrecognisable….clearly it had been closer to whatever had blown up in their faces

Merrill had probably thought she knew what she was doing, but she didn't have the skill or training to work on advanced spell work. I

rena wasn’t the type of person who would deny research on a whim either. If she believed that Merrill needed supervision then Merrill had needed supervision.

Irena was clever. And cautious.

Azriel's mate was a damn good judge of character after all.

Gods, Azriel's mate. What a thought…

The spymaster and the priestess. Rhys’ near silent brother and…and gentle, caring Irena, the beating heart of the library.

Rhys would need to wrap his mind around that in private.

“I’ll seal…this room,” Rhys said quietly. So nobody could enter. And then he would probably turn Amren loose in it, to turn around every fucking stone, so that they figured out what that spell had been that had reacted like it. The last thing they needed was for the spell to have any sort of consequences that involved Irena.

"Clotho," he greeted the priestess as she arrived, inclining his head.

What happened? she demanded, holding out her usual piece of paper.

Rhys felt his stomach churn at that question.

How the hell were they supposed to tell Clotho that not only one of the priestesses had tragically died…but one of the others was currently holed up in an Illyrian warrior's room, recovering from injuries that should have killed her, and that said Illyrian warrior was said priestess's mate, so was probably not going to leave her alone anytime soon?

And that was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to the absolute clusterfuck this whole situation was. There was nothing to do except to simply tell Clotho the truth and hope that she didn't have a breakdown.

"There was an...accident. Merrill is dead," he told her bluntly.

For a moment Clotho was just frozen in place. But he could tell that his words had hit her hard. That she was shocked, horrified, stunned beyond belief. HOW?!

And Rhys took a deep breath, trying to find a way to explain what had happened.

To explain how one of her charges had been killed in a room where she was supposed to be safe…How her own experimentation, her own research had killed her…

And how no one had even noticed that a priestess had been mated.

No...how the shadowsinger had mated to a Priestess and hadn't even thought to tell them because Rhys had acted like such as bastard to his brotherthat Azriel had actually thought it preferable to keep his mating bond a secret.

"Merill didn't listen when Irena turned down her research proposal," Gwyn said suddenly with a shaky voice. "Irena went to talk to her this afternoon, because Merill made Meera cry...It looks like the spell that she was taking apart went...haywire. Merill was killed in the backlash...Irena was hurt.”

Rhys just nodded. It was a reasonable explanation, even if it didn't cover everything that had gone on. At this point in time, he was almost more concerned about Clotho than anything else. The poor female looked ready to collapse.

I told Merill to keep away from that spellbook. We still don’t know what it even contained, Clotho agreed, even her handwriting looking shaky.

He could tell that she was in shock and grief. Could imagine how she must be feeling. Clotho protected the Priestesses with all she had. They were her flock. To lose one of her charges...There was no way that Clotho would not blame herself.

She was going to blame herself for something that wasn't her fault at all. And the thought made Rhys feel sick to his stomach.

Clotho had enough weight on her shoulders already, the last thing she needed was guilt over something that was not even her fault.

IRENA?! Clotho demanded sharply.

"Alive, if just barely," Rhys informed her, trying to push down his own guilt at the thought. "Madja is with her."

In the dormitory?

"No, in Azriel's room," Cassian said bluntly. "Apparently they have been mates for... two years.”

Clotho's head snapped around, facing Cassian, her eyes wide.

Nobody had seen that coming, not even one of Irena’s closest friends.

It seemed like both of them had kept it quiet. Azriel must have so badly wanted to protect his mate from…from him, that…

The thought made Rhys feel sick. Azriel would rather keep his mate a secret than reveal to Rhys that he had found her.

Than tell him that he had found his perfect match, that there was a female in this world that loved him above all others, who understood him, who supported him.

And it was all Rhys' own fault.

He didn't have any other thought. There was no other explanation. If a friend didn't trust him enough to confide in him that he had found his mate, it was because he had done something wrong. So wrong that Azriel hadn't felt like he could tell him.

She wanted to be with him? Clotho demanded.

"From the look of it, she was barely conscious, but still claimed him as hers. And Azriel certainly seemed to think that she would want to be with him," Rhys told Clotho.

And why wouldn't she? He was her mate. Her mate.

"He won't do anything to her," Cassian said fiercely. "She's his mate."

Rhys agreed with that. Of all the males in existence, Azriel was by far the least likely to do anything that Irena would not like. Hell, he wouldn't do anything that might make her even feel mildly uncomfortable. And if she told him to back off, he would give her as much space as she needed.

"Mor, whatever Clotho needs," he told his cousin, who had brought Madja there, who just inclined her head, seemingly shaken. "I'll seal of this room...we'll need to...figure out what to do with it," he said softly. "Clotho, whatever form of memorial you would like to hold...take all the time you need and then let me know."

Clotho looked at him sharply before nodding weakly. She probably wouldn't need his help when it came to something like this. She knew how to handle something like this. How to give her fallen a last farewell.

"I want to check on Irena," Gwyn said, her hands shaking as she crossed her arms.

Rhys nodded. That was fair. Of course Gwyn wanted to check on her friend. And at this point all anyone could really do was wait anyway. "Let me seal the room and then we can go," he said softly. "But I need to warn you, Azriel will be...overprotective," he told her. "Chances are, he won't let you get close to her at all."

"I don't have any doubt about that," Gwyn said dryly. "But she's my friend. I should at least be allowed to check on her."

***

He cleaned the blood of her skin...The shadows procured one of Irena's nightgowns. She didn't protest when he held her up and Madja pulled the soiled, ruined dress from her body...didn't even flinch away from his touch on her naked skin.

They had never gone further than some heated...kisses...further than his hands slipping under her nightgown and pressing against her soft skin. He had never wanted to push. Azriel had been willing to give her all the time in the world.

It had taken months until she had been ready for a hug…longer for a kiss. And he had waited. Gladly. He had gladly waited, because it was worth the wait. She was worth the wait.

Her marriage wasn't something that she was just going to get over, and Azriel was never ever going to push her for more than she willingly offered him.

He had never wanted to undress her under these circumstances. So he closed his eyes, and pressed a kiss to her head, not looking at all.

Irena didn't make a sound, didn't even really respond...just stared into the distance. He wasn't even sure she really noticed what was happening to her. Wasn't sure she even noticed Madja cleaning the wounds…cleaning thin, silver lines, scars of her past, mostly hidden by her clothing, but still visible.

This was also when they saw the rest of the wounds...and the fact that her bad leg was broken.

Madja bandaged it carefully, stuffing pillows underneath it to keep it elevated, wrapped the rest of her bruises and scrapes with a tincture.

Still, once she was clean, no more debris in her hair, her skin as clean as he could get it...and the new nightgown was fitted over her skin, he tugged her underneath the thick goose feather stuffed duvet and then the furs.

There was no resistance on Irena’s part. She just let him do as he pleased, let herself be maneuvered and tucked in with the patience of a parent settling a little girl into bed. She didn't say anything. Didn't protest at all, even when he curled his own large body around her smaller frame, even when his wings came around her, shielding her from the outside world.

But she didn't move to snuggle up to him either. Didn't reach for him, didn't try to press her body into his. Just...allowed him to pull her close and hold her as tightly as he wanted. Her body was limp and unmoving, the only emotion on her face a sort of...emptiness. A blank expression that...it was terrifying.

He wrapped his arms around her with a sigh, running a gentle hand through her hair with a sigh. He knew that she was in shock. That she had just survived something terrible, something traumatic. So it wasn't surprising that she wasn't really responsive at the moment, that her skin felt like ice to him and that she was shaking slightly, trembling…

But the instinct to comfort her, to protect her from everything that might hurt her was roaring in his chest. He couldn't pull away from her, even though he knew he should. Even though he knew he should just be thankful that he had her, that she was here, in his hands, breathing.

She felt so thin in his hands. So fragile. Like she might break if he didn't hold her close. And that feeling, the knowledge of how vulnerable his mate was, it was almost too much for him to bear.

“I have pain potions and a sleeping draught,” Madja said quietly.

Azriel felt his jaw clench at the mention of a sleeping draught. He wanted Irena to rest, needed her to sleep away some of the horrors, but there was also some instinct in him that revolted at the idea of making her vulnerable like that. That revolted at the thought of knocking his mate out when she couldn't protect herself.

“Is that alright, love?” He asked her softly.

She didn't answer. Didn't even stir. The only sign that she had heard his question at all was the way her fingers clenched more tightly in his shirt. The only outward sign that she even understood that he was there at all. That she could even hear him. "Love?" He asked again, his voice a gentle murmur. "Do you want the sleeping draught, love?"

“Sleep?” She repeated weakly.

“Sleep.” He promised her.

She simply opened her mouth in response, letting him pour it down her throat and swallowed.

He ran gentle fingers through her hair as the potion began to take effect. As her eyelids drooped and her limbs went loose and he could almost watch the tension leaving her body. He couldn't help but press a soft, tender kiss to the crown of her head.

Azriel couldn't put into words how good it felt to have her in his arms like this. To have her safe and protected and healing.

Madja left with the promise to be back soon…and as soon as she left there was a knock at the door. He didn’t want to deal with his brothers.

*We could bar the door, master,* the shadows offered.

Azriel considered that for a long moment. It was tempting. Really, really tempting to just let the shadows seal the door and tell everyone to fuck off. That they could deal with the rest of the world later and he could just focus on Irena for now.

He knew that he couldn't though. Knew that he couldn't keep the world away from Irena. For all that he would like to protect her from all the harm in this world and lock her away into the safety of his arms, he knew that he couldn't do that. And that Rhys would throw a fit if he didn't let them in immediately.

He sighed softly, his arms tightening around his mate. He didn't want to deal with his brothers right now. Didn't want to deal with Rhys lecturing him about his decisions. Didn't want the pity and understanding in Cassian's eyes, his careful kindness. He didn't want to have to hold up the strong facade when his brother pushed and pushed and pushed.

“Come in,” he said flatly.

Azriel sighed softly as the door was opened and his brothers entered, both looking at him with concern. There was something else in Rhys' eyes, something that he wasn't sure how to name. The High Lord had an indecipherable look on his face as he moved to come stand next to the bed.

But it was Gwyn that shouldered both Rhys and Cassian out of the way, that immediately went to Irena’s bedside.

“She’s asleep,” he warned her softly. “Madja gave her a sleeping draught.”

The Valkyrie moved in silence, but Azriel could tell that she desperately wanted to reach out and touch her friend. Could tell that there was some instinct in her to touch Irena, to comfort her, that she was fighting against. He almost felt bad for her, knowing how hard it must have been to hold back that urge to offer comfort, knowing how desperately she had to want to soothe her friend's pain.

He knew that the two of them were close. That Irena was well liked by practically every priestess…That Roslin was her very best friend, but that she also got along with seemingly everybody else, including Gwyn.

And he wanted to let her get close to his mate. He really did. But the need to keep his mate safe was too strong. Was something that he couldn't fight against. So he just pulled Irena more firmly into his chest.

His only saving grace was that Gwyn seemed to understand. Didn't even try to argue with him or demand to get close to his mate. She just stayed at a respectable distance and didn't protest when he pulled Irena closer to his chest.

He could tell that she recognized his possessive nature for what it was. Just a desperate instinct to hold and protect his mate from further harm. And she didn't argue with him.

“You are the one who gets her the tea and the cookies, aren’t you?” She asked him suddenly. “I was wondering where she got them from. They were always good but the tea has definitely gotten better the last two years.”

*See, Master?!* the shadows cooed, seemingly heaving and then coming to blanket Irena in their very presence too. *We are getting her the best tea!*

They seemed very pleased with themselves.

Azriel knew that when he wasn’t in Velaris, some of the shadows even kept Irena company through the night, cuddling themselves beneath her blankets with her. He also knew that Irena loved it.

Knew better than anyone even his shadows that those moments of comfort, those little gestures, mattered more to his mate than any large gifts ever could. Irena had never cared about large gestures, about pricy gifts, didn’t care about gifts or public displays of affection.

But those little things…she loved those little things. Loved her shadows coming to spend time with her…loved it when he gave her a back rub to ease the pain in her back, or when the shadows brought her the tea that she liked or her favourite cookies.

And Azriel…he loved giving her that. He was happy to provide each and every one of them. He would do anything for her at this point. Would bring her anything that she asked for with enthusiasm. Because he loved it when her face lit up or when she smiled when he brought her something she didn't expect to get. That was something that he would never get tired of.

Azriel would never get tired of watching her face light up with happiness at the smallest of gifts that he gave her. Would never tire of feeling those little gestures bring her even a small moment of happiness. It brought him somuch joy to see her delighted by something so small. Made something inside of him fill with warmth.

“I’ll let her sleep,” Gwyn said softly. “Tell her when she’s awake that she owes us all the gossip. None of us had a clue that the two of you were seeing each other.”

Azriel inclined his head in response, a soft grin pulling at his lips despite everything. "I'll be sure to tell her." Not that he thought that there was anything to gossip about.

Gwyn left with another smile. Which left him with his brothers.

“Az.” Cassian said with a weary sigh. ”What the fuck.”

Azriel frowned sharply, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he looked at his brother. His arms tightened around Irena unconsciously, the protective instinct coming into play.

He knew Cassian, knew all too well that his brother liked to be a pain in his ass, liked to push him further than he wanted to be pushed. "I'm not in the mood for your bullshit, Cassian," he warned his brother in a low growl. "Say whatever it is that you feel the need to say, and then get out."

He knew that he probably looked completely insane. Knew that he looked like a madman clutching onto Irena with an iron grip and growling at anyone who dared get too close. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the instincts that seemed to be pulling at every muscle in his body, couldn't stop the tension that was coiling tight as a spring.

“How long has… this been going on?“ Rhys asked delicately.

“Two years at next Starfall,“ Azriel answered flatly.

Cassian whistled softly at that. "Two years?!" He asked incredulously. "And you didn't think to tell us?"

Azriel's jaw clenched automatically at the words.

He had thought to tell them. Numerous times.

He had just never wanted to.

First he had wanted to let things settle and solidify before announcing it to his family and letting them come swarming in to analyse their relationship…Later…later he just hadn’t wanted to.

They were completely happy when nobody knew. Why change it?

Azriel knew that he probably should have anticipated this reaction. Probably should have expected his brothers to be confused and annoyed, probably should have anticipated them wanting to know more. But he just hadn't wanted to deal with the questions and inquiries and curiosity and judgement.

So he had kept his relationship with Irena a secret.

“It was none of your business,” he said simply.

Cassian stared at him, dark eyes pained. “We are your brothers,” he said quietly.

“Quite frankly, I just didn’t want to deal with whatever opinion you cook up about us,” Azriel said flatly. His brothers were way too nosy and curious for their own good. Always had been. “We are happy. I didn’t want you to ruin that.”

They would have never respected his privacy or any boundary he had tried to set up.

He knew that Cassianwas probably annoyed that he hadn’t told him about his relationship with Irena. Knew that he was probably feeling left out and...excluded. That he was hurt that Azriel had kept this from him. But he just couldn’t find it within himself to feel any sympathy at the moment. Not when his patience was already wearing thin. Not when he could still feel the fear of almost losing Irena thrumming under his skin.

He couldn’t deal with this right now. Couldn’t handle whatever pity or lecturing his brother would give him. Just wanted to hold his mate and try to keep the fear of losing her at bay.

That fear was already too much, already consuming him and threatening to swallow him whole. The only thing that kept him sane, the only thing that kept him from falling apart was the knowledge that his mate, his Irena, was safe in his arms. And he needed to focus on that if he wanted to keep it together.

“Azriel.” Rhys’ choice was choked.

Azriel stiffened at the sound, his attention flicking to his brother automatically. There was something in Rhys’ voice, some emotion in his eyes that Azriel couldn’t quite discern right now.

He had heard his brother choked or emotional or desperate before, but this was something else. This was emotion in his brother that he had never seen before: raw, unfiltered, and painful.

The tone of Rhys’ voice, the almost anguished look in his eyes had Azriel holding his breath for a moment. Had his heartbeat picking up speed as he waited for his brother to speak.

The tension was heavy and thick as he waited, his muscles coiled tight as he waited for Rhys to speak. His whole body tense like a tightly wound spring.

“I am sorry,” Rhys whispered quietly.

Azriel stiffened slightly at that, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. His muscles were still tense, still ready for a fight, but the raw apology in Rhys' words, the emotion in his voice...it surprised him.

It was unexpected. He had expected the anger and the hurt and the bitterness, not the raw emotion in his brother’s voice. Not the apology.

He almost couldn’t believe his ears, almost wanted to ask his brother to repeat himself. But he just stayed quiet instead, just tensed and listened and waited for his brother to continue speaking.

He couldn't even blink as he waited, as he hung on every slight movement or small change in expression on his brothers face. The tension was so thick, so heavy he could almost taste it. But he still didn't move an inch. Just waited, every muscle still as a statue as he watched his brother with an almost desperate intensity.

“I am sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t want to hurt you,” Rhys said quietly. “I…we would have been happy for you,” Rhys promised him fiercely.

Azriel felt his throat go dry at the words. The apology, the admission of his brother's intent to protect him, it was so unexpected that he almost couldn’t comprehend it. He felt some of the tension drain from his body, some of the tightness in his muscles loosening slightly.

Azriel's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he almost couldn't hear anything else over the sound. The raw emotion in his brother's voice, the sincerity in those simple words...it was overwhelming.

“You were hurt,” Rhys said softly. “I understand. But you could have come to us any time over the last two years and told us and we would have been a happy for you,” he promised him fiercely.

"Would you have really?" Azriel asked softly. "Would you really have been happy for us and not made a problem out of nothing?"

He wanted to believe his brother, truly he did. But there was still a small part of him, the small part that had been hurt and mistreated and rejected so many times before, that was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The part of him that was looking for a catch, looking for the sign that this was just another manipulation.

He didn't want to feel this way, didn't want to look for the betrayal and rejection that had been written into his very soul. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't help the small part of him that was constantly looking for the next blow, bracing for rejection and hurt.

“We would have,” Cassian said fiercely. “You found your mate, Az.”

Azriel nodded slowly.

“How did you even hide it?” Cassian demanded, crossing his arms.

“I do know how to use a sound shield,” Azriel gave back flatly.

Cassian let out a low chuckle at that, shaking his head as he grinned. "Well, you've always been more adept at keeping secrets than I am," he teased, a sly grin pulling at his lips. “ Since when do you sleep surrounded by furs by the way?” Cassian muttered.

“Irena gets cold,” he said simply.

“Wait, she spend the nights here with you?” Cassian suddenly realised.

"None of your business," Azriel replied flatly, not even trying to hide his annoyance with the nosy question. "Just focus on keeping your own mate happy, brother."

“How do you even sneak her up here?!”

"None of your business," Azriel repeated flatly. "My relationship with my mate is my own business, not yours."

He knew that he was being stubborn, that he was probably being unreasonable right now. But he couldn't help it. His emotions were too raw, too overwhelming for him to handle the intrusion into his personal life. He just wanted to focus on Irena and making sure she was okay, not on his brother's questions and prodding into the details of his relationship.

It was none of their business how he and Irena spent their time together, how they snuck around the house without being caught. That was something private, something sacred between them. And he wasn't going to share it with anyone, not even his own brothers.

He just wanted to protect that intimacy between him and his mate, wanted to keep it safely guarded from prying eyes that might not understand. He knew that his brothers cared about him, but he also knew that they could be too nosy for their own good sometimes.

“…is she aware what these furs mean?” Cassian asked him pointedly.

Was she aware that Azriel was laying claim to her with every single one of those furs that he hunted for her? Aware that he was following Illyrian tradition, regardless of how much…of how fucked up it was in many senses?

“Yes,” he said simply. Kinda. A little bit.

"So it's...serious?" Cassian asked him.

"She's my mate," he snapped back.

Cassian held up his hands in a pacifying gesture, a sheepish expression on his face.

Azriel let out a low groan, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just…leave it alone," he said tiredly. "Please. I'm not in the mood for any more questions right now."

He just wanted to be alone with Irena, wanted to hold her close and let the warmth of her body soothe his frayed nerves. He didn't want to deal with his brothers and their incessant questioning. Didn't want to talk about his relationship with Irena or how serious it was. He just wanted to be with her and that was it.

. His emotions were just too raw, too close to the surface for him to hold back. He just wanted a moment of peace, of quiet, with his mate.

He just wanted to hold her close and breathe in the scent of her skin, wanted to feel her warmth against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. He just wanted to know that she was safe, that she was still here with him. Was that really too much to ask?

He let out a long breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. He didn't want to be angry, didn't want to be frustrated. But he couldn't help it, couldn't help the surge of protective instincts that came over him every time he thought about how close he had come to losing his mate.

"If you need anything, let us know," Rhys said quietly.

Azriel stiffened at the words, his hands curling into fists at his sides automatically. He knew that Rhys was only trying to be supportive, that he was only trying to offer his help. But Azriel didn't want that. Didn't want his brother's help or sympathy. He just wanted to be left alone with his mate.

He wanted to protect her himself, to take care of her and keep her safe without his brothers' interference. He knew that Rhys only meant well, but that knowledge did nothing to calm his instincts. All he could think about was how close he had come to losing his mate, how close he had come to never seeing her again. And the thought terrified him.

It made his heart clench and his gut twist in fear and pain, his hands clenching tight as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. He didn't want to be vulnerable, didn't want to let his brothers see how much this had affected him. But he knew that it was pointless to try and hide it, that his brothers could probably see the rawness of his emotions written all over his face.

Azriel didn't try to argue with his brother, didn't try to explain himself. He just nodded.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #Holy Ground

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fishbonex · 1 month ago

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Sharp thoughts 2/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Things are starting to turn around again.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: insecurities

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

When you realized the way you had spoken to Mel the day before, you wanted to disappear.

What were you thinking? How did you think it was appropriate to talk to a Counselor like that?

Burying your face in your hands, you sighed audibly. Maybe you should start packing your things.

Entering the lab was like committing a crime, walking through the halls was like being wanted. Well, it was all in your head, you knew, in a way. But nothing could stop it from becoming reality.

Losing your privileges and sponsorships, being expelled from your lab and being forgotten were things that could happen if you displeased one of the Council members.

With a dramatic groan, you leaned your head back against the workbench. The richest person in Piltover? You weren't thinking that at all.

At least you were lucky enough not to run into her in the days that followed, which gave you time to think about what to do.

But luck wasn't so great, it seems, because Heimerdinger requested a Council meeting with some of the scientists who occupied the main building. And of course you were among them.

Wearing your formal clothes was still stifling, even after all the time you had been in your profession. Walking and standing in front of the gigantic table with the most important people in the city was even worse.

And there she was. Sitting in all her glory. Her elegant, smooth demeanor was the same, but you didn’t miss the way her expression fell slightly when she laid her eyes on you.

You looked away and swallowed hard, waiting for your turn to speak, which didn't take long because Heimerdinger preferred to interrupt your colleagues whenever he got too excited about their projects.

"Oh yes, you! Come, come closer." he called in his usual cheerful tone of voice. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm very well, professor, thank you-"

"Well, that's great! I've read your latest study, a wonderful thing, I must say." he said, looking around the table, receiving a few nods of approval from the other members. "I hope to be able to read the next one soon, bring it to me as soon as you're done, yes?"

You automatically looked at Mel, since she was the one you took your studies to, she seemed uncomfortable, but remained silent.

"Yes, Professor, of course." you replied politely, clasping your hands in front of you.

"And your engineering projects? I heard from one of your colleagues that you joined him in continuing a magnificent project for the new building—" his cheerful voice was interrupted.

"What engineering projects? I haven't been informed of anything." Mel's voice sounded slightly irritated, different from her usual soft tone.

You turned your head towards her and looked at Heimerdinger again, he gave an encouraging nod and you began to explain yourself.

"It's one of my areas of expertise, which I'm starting to pursue. It's not my project, actually, I'm just going to make a contribution." your voice sounded timid.

"You didn't know? I thought you were her sponsor, Councilor." Jayce's voice came through and only then did you realize he was there.

"I am. One of the sponsors, actually. I demand that your projects be brought to me, it is my responsibility to bring them to the Council." she said it firmly, alternating her eyes between you and Heimerdinger, who just nodded resignedly.

Mel had never spoken to you like that. Giving orders like you were a clueless maid.

"Well." Heimerdinger cleared his throat. "This meeting is adjourned."

You didn't wait for any further orders, turning on your heel and walking quickly back to your lab, letting out a tired sigh as you closed the door behind you.

"Didn't you ever think to tell me you were involved in engineering?" Mel's melodious voice rang out the moment you entered her office in the Council building.

"You never asked me, counselor." you replied, trying to sound polite.

"Won't you stop this?" she raised her voice in annoyance, her pretty face twisting into an angry expression. "Please, we're adults."

You swallowed and nodded, "You're right. I feel really bad... about the way I spoke to you earlier. I shouldn't meddle in your personal relationships."

"You're a personal relationship of mine." she raised an eyebrow. "Don't apologize, I would have been the same way if I witnessed someone having... sexual intercourse."

You felt the back of your neck heat up and sighed, "You were in your house anyway. I'm the one who broke in."

"You didn't broke in, I made it clear that you could come in whenever you wanted. That remains the same." she walked around the table, the clicks of her heels becoming present. "I must also apologize for the way I conducted myself at the Council."

"There's no need-"

"Jayce is a good man, but my relationship with him is... carnal. And business-related." she took a few steps closer. "If that's what's keeping you from me."

"Counselor, I don't-"

"Don't tell me no. You don't want me anymore?" she reached out to pull your hands toward her.

"No one in their right mind would give up on you." you blurted out and widened your eyes slightly afterwards, earning a giggle from Mel.

"Well, that's great then." she hooked her arms around your neck and leaned her face down to you, pressing her delicate lips against yours.

#writing #writers on tumblr #arcane fanfic #arcane #arcane fandom #mel medarda x reader #mel x reader #mel medarda #mel arcane #wlw #wlw fanfic

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patolemus · 9 months ago

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Sterek fic recs: Fake Dating AU Edition

Because @oldefashioned requested a fake dating rec list, here it is. These are all very funny, as fake dating fics ought to be, so I hope you get a good laugh out of it.

1. Not Your Disney Romance by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone)

After a long-forgotten agreement of an arranged marriage between Derek and the daughter of another pack's alpha resurfaces, Stiles takes it upon himself to become the most amazing fake fiancé that a clueless, desperate alpha werewolf could wish for.

Notes: Domestic pack, my beloved. Stiles and Derek are precious here, I LOVE THEM!! The visiting pack, not so much, but who cares about them?? It's all pretty lighthearted, all things considered. It's completed.

2. Electricity In the Contact by ladyblahblah

In which Derek has been invited to the Greater Pacific Northwest Alpha Symposium (that's not what it's called, Stiles, stop saying that), and showing up unattached would mean an arranged marriage. When the rest of the pack objects, he agrees to let Stiles come along to pose as his mate. Derek is reasonably sure that he's not going to make it out of this weekend alive.

Notes: Werewolf convention fics are so good! I actually haven't found all that many, considering how common a trope it is, and it's a tragedy because they're always so well done! This one is no exception, and the mini-world building is also great! It's completed.

3. can’t be hateful, gotta be grateful by HalfFizzbin

"Be cool, Dad, we've decided to con Grandma." (Or, the one where the Stilinski men drag Derek to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma's and she gets the right wrong idea.)

Notes: this one is just *cheff´s kiss* wonderful! It's all pretty domestic and the humor is on point. College student Stiles and the Sheriff are strong armed into spending Thanksgiving with Stiles' grandma, and they find nothing better than to bring Derek with them. Pining and misunderstandings ensue and thus comes the fake dating. It's completed.

4. Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi

“Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so… “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“ “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.” “A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Notes: this had such a chokehold on me when I first read it. Absolutely wonderful. Enemies to lovers?? Maybe. Assholes to assholes-in-love, is a better descriptor. There's werewolves, and magic, and it's awesome! It's completed.

5. He’s Not Mine by Sonnee

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Notes: again, it's all very domestic, like most fake dating fics ought to be. It's a kid fic, Sterek are mates, we have all the love. Not much else I can think to add... it's completed.

6. Real life isn’t a movie (life doesn’t make narrative sense) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

Somehow accidentally insulting a hot guy in a coffee shop leads to pretending to be his boyfriend in front of a house full of werewolves. Stiles Stilinski is living his best life and making the most of his Hallmark movie moment.

Notes: this one had me cracking up because it's so funny! Stiles is living his best life, for real. Derek... suffers. But it's okay, because he gets a boyfriend out of this whole thing! They are disgustingly sweet in that assholish way they have. It's completed.

7. You look like my next mistake by Vendelin

“So, are you dating someone new? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re frigid?” Kate cocks her head to the side, smiling as though she just asked him about where he bought his shoes. His entire body sighs in defeat as his shoulders grow square. Just as he opens his mouth, someone comes up to stand beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. When he glances to his side, expecting to see Isaac, his brain seems to malfunction. Because it isn’t Isaac. It’s Stiles Stilinski, the lacrosse talent of the year, a senior who Derek has seen multiple times from far away, but never ever talked to. In which Derek is a nerd jock, and Stiles is a frat guy, and Derek falls for him even though he knows he shouldn't.

Notes: this one had me HOWLING it's so good!! Frat boy Stiles, my beloved. It's technically not fake dating because it turns into an actual relationship pretty quickly, but it starts as fake dating so I'll take it. Stiles is an absolute sweetheart in this one, I love him! And Derek is shy, and insecure, but he's so great, and everyone gets a happy ending except Kate, which is always a good thing. It's completed.

8. All’s Fair In Orgasms and War by bleepobleep

AVN BREAKING NEWS-- DIAMOND VISTA RIDGE BREAKS HIS CONTRACT WITH HALE HOUSE "We haven't seen much of our favorite rock hard stud from Hale House ever since that indie twink dethroned him as champion in Orgasm Wars, but it's just been confirmed that Diamond will no longer be working for the legendary studio famous for producing some of our favorite werewolf-on-human works. Don't fret, Diamond fans, it looks like he's been spotted cozying up to True Alpha Studios! Apparently he couldn't get enough of that one human and then followed him home. Could it be true love? Keep your eye on this studio-- us at AVN think we're about to get a lot more of Diamond in a very new way!" ~ The one in which (almost) everyone is a porn star, and Derek just wants to curl up with his fluffy blanket and watch the Hallmark channel, but work and falling in love gets in the way.

Notes: okay but is this fake dating? Maaaaaybe. It's kinda complicated. Basically everyone here is a porn star and the pack has this studio where they cater to werewolves and have a whole thing about established relationships, which is where the fake dating comes up. It's surprisingly very fluffy, considering this is a porn au, and Derek is the softest goober in this one. Stiles is completely enamoured. It's completed.

9. Wanted from the You Are series by Asterekmess (Livinginfiction)

With the Hale pack finally settled and safe, it only makes sense that something would happen to screw it all up. To top it all off, Stiles has to pretend to be Derek's mate, or face a pack of angry Alphas. He's doomed.

Notes: Alright so this series is wonderful. The world building done for the Alpha pack is also great, and that's the center of the second part (which has the fake dating). I do recommend reading the first part before jumping on to Wanted because it is a direct continuation. Also, it's an amazing au! It's completed.

10. For Love is Not Ours to Command by weathervaanes

Where Derek's skills at thinking on his feet mean that he and Stiles have to act. For the sake of Stiles' dad, of course, for the sake of the pack. No personal interest interference at all, whatsoever. Right. -0- “Why does my dad say that you and your boyfriend are a bad influence on me?” “What?” “Yeah, what boyfriend? Dude, you are not allowed to not tell me crap like this. You didn't think I'd like be a douchebag or something. Right?” “No, wait, what? I have no boyfriend.” “He says you were with him at the police station.” Stiles blinks. “Uhm. Oh shit.”

Notes: Stiles just wanted to find dirt on Raphael McCall to blackmail him. Somehow, he got himself a whole ass boyfriend. It's complicated. That's it, that's the fic. It's completed.

11. Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriend Extraordinaire by MareLoup

“Beacon County Sheriff's Department, this is deputy Mahealani speaking.” “Oh thank god!” “Stiles?” “I, uh, I need some advice.” “Advice?” “Yeah. So, hypothetically, say you met your boyfriend’s mother and sister for the first time ever. Completely by accident. In the grocery store. And they convinced you to help them make a dinner to surprise aforementioned boyfriend when he got home after work. What would you do?” Danny paused, and then, “Stiles, you don’t have a boyfriend.” “That’s not the point! And I said hypothetically.” “Stiles...what are you doing right now?” *** Stiles never imagined he’d be in Derek’s kitchen cooking a surprise dinner with Derek’s family while they waited for Derek to get home from work. Partly because their visit was a complete surprise. But mostly because Stiles didn’t have a boyfriend. Or even know who Derek was. But he’d already come this far and Papa didn’t raise no quitter!

Notes: this is to date one of my favorite Sterek fics. I laughed so much while reading this, I'm not even joking. The whole thing is a comedy of errors gone right. Stiles somehow finds himself pretending to be Derek's boyfriend, only he has no idea who Derek even is and why his family knows Stiles at all. His inner monologue is one of the funniest I've read, and his slow descent into (good natured) madness is wonderful. It's completed.

12. Love Like An Ache In The Jaw by Anonymous

“So let me get this straight,” The sheriff massages his temples, “You found a magic book, and performed a magic spell that has backfired and magically bound you to Derek Hale, rendering you both in agony if you’re not in the same room.” Derek and Stiles exchange a look. “Um. Yes.” Stiles says sheepishly. “Right. And just to be clear, when we’re talking agony… exactly how agonizing is the agony?” Derek clears his throat. “Sir, I’ve had a pole stabbed through my chest and held there for an hour. This was… similar.” - In which boredom, magic and dumbassery come together to produce a Christmas miracle slash disaster. Oh, and Stiles' grandmother who knows absolutely nothing about the supernatural happens to be in town. Oops.

Notes: another hilarious one. Stiles does Stiles things and ends up magically bound to Derek. No one is amused except Stiles' grandmother, who's having the time of her life, here. It's completed!

#fake dating #fake dating aus are great #and sterek has this natural chemistry that makes it even better #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fic recs #fic rec #sterek #sterek fic recs #eternal sterek #eternalsterek #teen wolf #ao3

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uselesssomebody · 3 months ago

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𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕤 - young!marcus acacius x priestess!reader

complete masterlist | pedro pascal masterlist

words || 𝟏.𝟗𝕜

summary || in which the reader meets a young soldier under the watchful eye of cupid

taglist || @shesservingcvnt

a/n || ancient greek/roman settings are so goated lol

➵ this one's a bit short and shit lol i think i've forgotten how to write non-sexually charged fics. happy to expand with a part 2 when marcus is a general if there is interest; please show this through messages, comments or reblogs!

➵ obviously set before the events of gladiator II, which i haven't watched yet so if anything is not canon-compliant, oops! also, i did a lil research on the life of priestesses, but have no clue how actually accurate this is haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/a wee bit of angst

work at the temple of venus and roma is hardly quiet and calm. right next to the colosseum, the girls can hear the roars of the crowd and watch the drunken crowds as they leave the fights. some stumble their way into the temple, looking for a quick round with a courtesan, but the high priestess pushes them off. an older lady, still as gorgeous as the day she started, was adamant about the kind of rendevouz' that the women in her temple would entertain.

"help me with this, will you?" the girl is broken from her listening to the cheers of the crowd next door by another priestess, struggling with a large platter of fruit. she quickly rises to her feet, helping the other girl with her task. they place it down at the feet of the statue, and she sits beside her as she recites a short prayer. good fortune and love, prosperity and the continued beauty of rome. there's another roar from the crowd.

a beautiful city tainted with blood.

she still wasn't used to all the customs. coming from a small town, she had come in the cart of a merchant passing through. an undeniable beuaty, when the high priestess found her, she promised her a life of pease and devotion to venus, and she had agreed - it being better than her prospects on the street as a prostitute, or as a seller of wares.

she had been working at the temple only a few short weeks, and seen that these priestesses were nothing like the women of the other temples - they enjoyed the sex, they enjoyed the attention, and they welcomed the advances of the worthy men. soldiers, merchants, the occasional politician. they all filtered through the temple, as was their place.

it was not a lonely life. the girls were kind, and sweet - truly devoted and their beauty shone both through their radiant appearance and their glimmering personalities.

they watched the temples at night in pairs. there's usually not much incident, save for the occasional drunk or vandal, but they rarely worried of that. they were easy enough to tame. they watched women and men pray at the feet of the goddess, late into the night. sometimes, it was from a place of elation, and other times, of anguish.

today, she watches on along with one of the other priestesses, keeping up with the nightly cleaning. the other girl had a suitor, who would join her in the late nights. she at least had the courtesy to let her know if she was leaving early, and tonight was one of those nights. left alone in the temple, she tended to the candles and the cleaning. it's been quiet, and no one had come in yet, until she hears loud steps up the stairs.

glancing back, she sees the silhouette of a young man. he had something in his hand, and the moonlight shone on his armor. a soldier.

not the most common visitor to venus, but not uncommon, either. she stays quiet, watching him lower to his knees and murmur a prayer to the goddess.

she places a new offering at her feet, as the man's prayer ends. as she turns to step away, he takes her hand, head tilted up to her, still on his knees.

"a priestess?" his voice is gruff, but not ornery. there's that lilt of curiosity that young men tend to have. she nods silently, and she can see the hint of a smile on his shadowed face. "then you know the story of mars and venus, of course." he continues.

her brows furrow.

"of course." her voice is quiet, confused, but not dismissive.

"the most passionate of lovers." he starts to muse, rising to his feet. he towers over her, but she can't tell if that's his height, or his presence.

"did you wish to place an offering for the goddess?" she points to the bundle in his hand. he tilts his head, and hums.

"yes... but i feel that she's telling me it would be better suited for you." her eyes widen in shock, until he procures flowers. she purses her lips.

"it's not right to take a goddess's offering." her murmur is quiet, but makes him laugh.

"my prayer was for her to send me a pretty woman. and she has done so without offering." her cheeks warm, and she giggles.

"leave them at her feet, soldier." he nods obediently, carefully placing them on the feet of the statue.

"would she approve me stealing one of her priestesses away?" he asks, after doing so, and she rolls her eyes.

"hardly. and if she's not angry, then the high priestess will definitely be." he shrugs.

"i must be back in the barracks by morning. perhaps i can keep you company until then?" his suggestion makes her perk up. company from an attractive soldier who was obviously entranced by her? it was almost as though cupid guided her head to nod.

he's respectful as she finishes her tasks, before they sit on the steps on the side of the temple, used to go up to the upper floors.

"so... mars and venus?" he continues, once he's sat down with her, thigh, only partially covered by rough undercloth, brushing against hers.

"indeed. a pairing born out of an affair." she reminds playfully.

"well... sure, but mars was doing venus a favor." he argues, and she laughs.

"hardly. he got venus. she was doing him the favor." his brow raises, and he smiles.

"i suppose we will both argue for our favorite." she shifts to face him.

"i am her priestess, it would be blasphemous to not." he shrugs.

"i'm a soldier. i'm like a priest of mars." she looks at him in such a way hat he immediately retracts the statement. "okay, fine. just a follower." she smiles, nodding in agreement.

"better." she decides, "how long have you been a soldier."

"just a year." he shrugs.

"been outside of the empire yet?" he shakes his head.

"not yet." her eyes follow his strong jawline, strong nose, strong arms and strong legs. he's imposing, and seems to hold more authority than he does.

"did you really come in here tonight to ask venus for a pretty girl?" he looks over, a little sheepish.

"well... yes, i suppose. but i also figured there'd be a lot of pretty girls as priestesses." she rolls her eyes playfully, pretending to be disappointed.

"you men." she shakes her head, scolding him, and he laughs, taking her hand.

"why must you women be so pretty, hmm? have you asked that?" he kisses her knuckles. "and i think i've found the most beautiful to enjoy a hardened soldier's company."

"hardened? you've hardly been a soldier for a year!" he pouts playfully.

he comes the next night, and the night after. and then he comes in the mornings too, with a bundle of wild flowers for the goddess, with one that he always reserves for his priestess. the other girls talk, but she hardly minds that, spending her free time in the courtyard with her soldier.

one night, he's tracing the lines on her palm. it's a quiet night, and the fabric of her robes rustle in the wind.

"you're quiet tonight." she murmurs, and it's true. he'd usually speak of his training, his mates, his hardass of a general.

"i wish not to speak." he sighs, almost defeated. she blinks in confusion, looking over at him.

"what happened?" she shifts closer, hand on his arm. he sucks in a deep breath, not looking at her. he stares out into the empty courtyard.

"i must go, in two days. to egypt." she blinks in shock. of course, she'd anticipated it, but not so soon. and she never thought about facing it head on.

"why didn't you tell me?" he closes his eyes.

"i don't want to have to think of being away from you." he whispers, a vulnerable crack in his arrogant shell. she places her head on his shoulder.

"mars will see that you're back soon."

"and will venus make sure you'll wait?" he asks, and she suddenly realizes his worry.

"of course i'll wait, marcus." she promises. feeling slightly less conflicted, which she can tell by the way his shoulders loosen, she presses a small kiss to his cheek, and he pulls her closer by her shoulders, peppering kisses to her hairline.

"wait for me, my priestess." he doesn't pull away, he can't imagine he will until the sun comes up.

"always."

"when i'm back..." he starts tentatively, "i'll wed you." her eyes widen in shock.

"you will?"

"if you'll have me." he pulls away to look into her eyes, and he's uncharacteristically sheepish.

"i'll have you, my soldier."

it's a painful year of not knowing what had happened to him. her peers noticed the bout of depression that hung over her for the first few weeks, and the devout praying she would stay up to do every night. they girls understood, but they all usually knew better than to get attached to soldiers - the empire's war fodder. still, they would add a small prayer for the peace of mind of their young friend.

it's a sweltering day that she's been having, and she's waiting impatiently for the cool breezes of the night. it's a quiet day, and again, she hears the roars - human and animal - from the colosseum. she's broken out of her thoughts by one of the girls struggling with a platter of fruit. she springs up to help her, and an almost eerie shiver runs up her spine, the deja vu leaving her star struck for a moment after she places it at the feet of the goddess.

the night is similarly familiar, but she chalks it up to routine. her peer has left with the same boy, a thought that makes her heart ache at her own uncertainty over marcus. she's saying a prayer as she hears footsteps enter, but they don't bother her.

finishing the prayer, she clears the older offerings to make space for the morning's new ones, and the man steps forward. the shine of the moonlight illustrates the yellows and blues of the flowers he places, and she catches it out of the corner of her eye. he steps back, staring up at the goddess, before approaching he. she hardy notices, until she sees the single remaining flower in his hand, that he offers.

she adjusts to the shadow cast on his face, and immediately feels the overwhelming recognition wash over her, jumping into his arms.

"marcus?" almost as though she can't believe it.

"it's me." he assures, voice soft. kind and breathy - almost elated. he tucks the flower behind her ear, pulling away to look at her: that same face, as perfect as he'd remembered it, eyes brimming with - hopefully - joyous tears.

"you came back." she giggles softly, over them moon.

"and you waited, my love." he presses a kiss to each cheek, and she presses a chaste one to his lips.

"i think that means you have a promise to fulfil."

"i suppose it does."

#gladiator 2 imagine #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #marcus acacius #young marcus acacius #marcus acacius imagine #marcus acacius oneshot #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius fluff #priestess reader #pedro pascal #venus and mars

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undeadcannibal · 2 years ago

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imagine one of the Fem! rookies getting lil skeleton hands tattooed on her hands, and ghost just-

*INSTANT BONER*

Summary: Ghost can’t help but be turned on when he notices the Recruits’ new tattoos. Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Genre: One-shot, request(s) Word count: 1,138

Warnings: Mature rating, mention(s) of sexual acts.

A/N: Ooh, I had fun with this one, Anon. Was tempted to turn it into a full fic, but figured I’d be an asshole and tease y’all since I write tons of smut otherwise. Whoops! Anywho, thank you so much for the request, Anon. I hope y’all enjoy it~ Also, I apologize if this has a lot of mistakes. I’ve been slammed with allergies, mental stuff, and work, so I’m all sorts of fucked lol. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Ghost paid little mind to most of the rookies they trained. At least, he had before until he'd met you a few months back. Price had mentioned to 141 he was interested in possibly having each of them bring some new recruits under their wing to help show them the ropes. He figured if anyone could get any of them ready, it'd be his boys. Each of them eventually had someone signed to them to help train. Ghost's recruit certainly was interesting, to say the least.

John had figured with Ghost being more reserved than the rest of the group, it might be easier if he had a recruit that kept to themselves more than the rest. He was thankful for that. The less he had to worry about babysitting, the better. Thankfully, that never seemed to be the case with the recruit Price had assigned to him.

You went by the call sign Mouse.

At first, he'd assumed it was for your small stature, but after he'd heard whispers from the others, he quickly realized it was due to your specialty for silence and speed. Apparently, you were just as quiet as you were quick in your fieldwork. That he could appreciate. Yet, aside from that, he didn't know much about you even after weeks of training together.

Aside from learning the truth behind your call sign, he'd also come to notice that - surprisingly - you were covered in numerous tattoos.

Every time the two of you sparred together, he found himself discovering a new tattoo he hadn't seen before or a blank spot that had yet to be filled with ink.

Eventually, somewhere around the two-month mark, he found himself asking you about them after a successful session. You'd finally managed to break out of a particular grapple you were struggling with thanks to the size difference between you two. However, Ghost refused to relent until you'd gotten the hang of it. Your enemies wouldn't play fair if they towered over you, so he had to prepare you for any sort of outcome to give you the best chance of survival possible. Still, that didn't mean he was so strict as to not celebrate the small victories.

As the two of you were hydrating after training, he'd found it in him to comment on your tattoos for whatever reason.

"Noticed you had a blank spot there." He'd comment, glancing down at the blank space of flesh on your hands. It'd surprised him to see your arms covered yet you still had yet to choose something for them. Maybe you didn't care for hand tattoos, he wondered...

"Have any plans for 'em?"

You paused in bringing your water bottle to your lips, pursing them as you hummed softly. Seemingly debating on how to answer his question.

"Mm, yeah... I've got a few ideas in mind for them, but have yet to settle on anything yet."

He was content to leave it at that had it not been for your next response.

"I've got a few ideas in mind but haven't settled on anything just yet. Tell you what though, when I do get those spots filled in, you'll be the first one I show them to."

By the time that'd happened, it'd been a few months later and he'd pretty much forgotten the interaction until he'd bumped into you again on his way out for a smoke break. You'd stopped to say hi and chat for a bit before he suddenly saw your eyes widening. A giddy smile broke out on your face shortly afterward.

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Raising the sleeves of your long sleeve top, you also quickly rid yourself of those pair of gloves he often saw you wearing. "Check out the new tattoos I got while I was back home."

With your forearms and hands bare to him, he could see the fresh, black ink now covering the spaces on your appendages that previously clear soft skin.

The moment he realized what the tattoos were, Simon was thankful for the strait-laced control of his reactions. Certain if he wasn't so strict with himself that he'd be giving off numerous micro-expressions showing his interest in your new pieces.

Of all the tattoos you had to get, it just had to be a stylistic representation of your wrists and hands skeletal system.

Rationally, he understood that the new set of ink likely had no meaning behind it - most of his own didn't - but a smaller, possibly more primal part of him wanted to puff up his chest. Preen at the thought of everything you could have chosen, it was something similar to the gloves he often wore himself. Only much more permanent. And attractive.

Fucking hell, he was down bad over something that meant nothing at all.

Just so he didn't break down and smile, Ghost took a long and deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling the entirety of the smoke from his lungs. Watching the vapors dissipate entirely before finally having it in him to look at you once again.

"How'd you do during the fingers and knuckles?"

You laughed sweetly and softly, causing him to feel an odd sense of pride in being the cause behind that laughter. Especially when he took notice of the way your cheeks appeared even softer and rounder than usual as you did so.

Eyes down, soldier. Look at the tattoos, not her damn squishable cheeks.

Watching you wiggle your fingers in his direction, you grinned up at him cheekily.

"Pain comes with the territory. Besides, I kinda enjoy that type of pain, and it's also a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy." You joked.

Simon felt like a pitiful man when he felt the familiar stirring of arousal deep within his lower belly shortly after. His mind already drifting towards mental images of you down on your knees before him. Opening his pants just so you could wrap those tattooed fingers around the base of his cock. Stroke him till he grew hard and began to twitch within your palms. Eventually - given your permission - he'd paint the dark ink with his release, claiming you in a way and--

He needed to stop his thoughts before he began to spiral down the rabbit hole that was his sudden lewd thoughts that came on with your new tattoos.

He was going to need another cigarette as soon as he finished his first one.

Clearing his throat, Simon glanced at you with dilated, bright eyes.

"They look good on you, kid."

Even if he wouldn't admit it aloud, Ghost secretly saw it as a secret bond between the two of you.

Now, you had a permanent mark of his favorite pair of gloves on your body.

The thought alone turned him on much more than he'd ever thought possible.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #oneshots #requests #anonymous #my writing

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just-some-random-blogger · 10 months ago

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Okay so here’s my request for a blurb…💕

Think of that one scene where Tormund is talking to the hound about Brienne but instead of Brienne it’s the reader (fem Y/N). The readers a hard woman and hasn’t given in to Tormund because she’s secretly with Sandor.

So basically the hound being jealous that tormund is into his woman.

Preferably NSFW if it’s too long to get to NSFW no worries.

⭐️( PS: i love your writing for the hound, barely anyone else gets it right!)

Save Me A Bowl

"A pretty thing for a pretty thing," Tormund says, holding up a small flower, not yet bloomed. I raise my brows at the white bud, "do I look like a thing to you?"

Sandor Clegane x Reader x Tormund Giantsbane | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, jealousy, whipped!Tormund, fluff?, casually implied sex, typos, etc.

A/N: UR NOT ABOUT TO CATCH ME SLIPPIN ON MY POST STREAK. Once I post this, I'd have finished all my requests which is such a slay for this girl 🥹🫶. It has been quite a while since I got this req tho, so I hope you enjoy it nonnie 🫶 also.... I haven't actually reached this part of GoT yet HAHAHAHAHAH it's fine tho I think I know enough to write it lmao

Sandor was not very affectionate, at least not in the noticeable kind. In truth, neither was I, though I suppose it's because you don't really have the time to think about such things when there was a war at hand.

However, I would say I didn't shy from checking on him, nor from asking him to accompany me. I definitely didn't shy from going out of my way to sit next to him, nor from leaning into him when it got too cold. The same could be said about him, I think.

In my opinion, my relationship with Sandor was rather obvious, though we never spoke about it, especially on the multiple accounts I've announced I'd be heading back to my tent and have the Hound immediately follow after me. If anything, I thought it was at least crystal clear what we were up to after the fact.

This was why I turned to Brienne when Tormund began harking nonsense. She and I had been huddled by the fire, finishing a bowl of soup when he came around.

"Is he trying to seduce you?"

"Don't look at me," says Brienne in between spoonfuls, "I am not the one he directs such gaudy poetry to."

I raise my brows as I turn back to Tormund who immediately smiles at me. I find myself sparing a smile back just to get his oration over with.

Ever since then, Tormund went out of his way to tire my ear with the sound of his voice, telling me tall tales of his life and his people. To be honest, I didn't mind it. In fact, I was partially entertained by some of his stories.

Showy as he was, he was harmless for the most part, and so I just let him do what he wanted. Eventually, his yapping would earn him a bowl to head and a threat to shut his trap. It worked out for me the men had much less patience for him than I did.

Little did I know, Sandor just about lost his patience with him.

I have to stop eating so I can get a laugh out of my system. The orange haired man laughs with me and concludes his story. He sighs, "you're the only fun one on this side of the fucking wall."

I shake my head and continue eating my food, "you mistake my tolerance of you as solidarity with your humor."

"Yet you laugh," Tormund raises a thick brow.

I shrug and swallow a mouthful before replying, "because you are fool."

"Fool enough to make you laugh," he says, standing from his seat beside me. He seems to look for something in his pocket.

I barely spare him a glance as he tells me, he's forgotten something, "I'll be right back."

Just as he runs off, I see Sandor and smile at him. He seems not to notice me and sits in a spot across from me. I immediately stand and come up next to him. I sit next to him, "took you a while."

Sandor ignores me.

I nudge him when he does not respond.

He side eyes me then begins to eat.

I raise a brow at his ignorance, "has something happened?"

He grunts then snaps, "why don't you ask that ginger fuck."

I frown.

"You seem keen of his company," Sandor glare, "you even laugh at his rancid jokes."

I furrow my brows.

Just then, Tormund comes back. He looks for me a moment, then beams when he spots me.

He runs up to me and Sandor; I feel Sandor stiffen against me.

"A pretty thing for a pretty thing," Tormund says, holding up a small flower, not yet bloomed.

I raise my brows at the white bud, "do I look like a thing to you?"

"The prettiest thing in the south," Tormund grins.

I release a breath.

I look over my shoulder and realize Sandor has stopped eating in lieu of glaring at Tormund. I'm about to speak, but I'm beaten to the chase.

"Fuck off, filthy minge," Sandor growls.

Tormund turns to him. His upper lip curls, "I wasn't speaking to you, smelly mutt."

Sandor stands and the two impose upon each other.

I immediately set my bowl down and step between them. I push them both on their chests, but neither budge. I hiss, "enough."

"You heard the woman," Tormund says, "get lost."

"I-"

"She was talking about you, you yapping fuck," Sandor snarls.

Before they can jump at each other's throats, I step back and yell, "ENOUGH, I SAID."

Sandor and Tormund stare at me.

"It's been a long day," I snap, "I'm not in the mood to soothe two whining bitches."

Tormund nods, "right!"

I narrow my eyes, "Tormund-"

"Yes?" he immediately retorts.

"- fuck off."

He opens his mouth but is too taken aback to say anything.

"You've been too busy picking flowers to notice that I'm with Sandor."

Tormund stares at me blankly.

"He's the one warming my tent."

He is aghast.

Sandor's face is blank, but he seems otherwise pleased as he sits back down and continues to eat.

The ginger steps forward and reaches out, "but I-"

"Keep your fucking hands to yourself," Sandor stands again, "if you know what's good for you."

Tormund glares at Sandor.

I sigh, "I told you you were a fool."

Tormund deflates. He walks off silently.

Sandor pulls me by the arm as he sits, sitting me down next to me, "good fucking riddance. Finally some quiet."

I roll my eyes at him, "you know," I pull my arm away, "this wouldn't have happened if I-"

"Fucked you harder?" he says in between chewing, "aye. I know better now."

#ngl i kinda feel bad for tormund #hes my pathetic meow meow too #Sandor Clegane fanfic #sandor fanfic #sandor fluff #sandor smut #the hound fanfic #the hound #sandor clegane fluff #tormund fanfic #tormund giantsbane fanfic #tormund giantsbane fluff #Tormund fluff #tormund x reader #sandor x reader

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megtrns · 2 months ago

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hello! i saw requests were open. :>

i feel like you would write for tf! one sentinel very well. pretty blue bastard, always draped in gold but - he does show the capability to be knocked down a peg.

a human, prized by the quintessons as "incentive".. they end up being a bit too entertaining and bring a fake prime to his knees instead.

a/n : hi robolvrr, thank you for being my first request ! thanks for putting your faith in me , i hope i won't let you down with this <3

shades of blue and shame. sentinel (tf one)/reader. (nsfw!)(mdni!)

as much as you hate to admit it, blue is a nice look on sentinel — electric cobalt accentuated by the streaks of fluorescent gold.

he paints himself like a king, all flashy and bright. which makes him more annoying to you, someone who knows the truth beneath his tower of lies. if the quintessons hadn’t been so kind to you, showering you with riches and keeping you happy, you wouldn’t have agreed to negotiating with him. it speaks volumes on how irritating sentinel was, for the quintessons had passed him on to you, a human initially abducted to better facilitate mediation between them and organic races. and this was the first time you had actually to put in the work, considering that most of the time, the quintessons don’t try to bargain before conquering entire planets.

you had no previous interest in cybertronians. you've seen plenty of impressive alien races in your line of work, the ability to transform and stand sixty feet tall shouldn't warrant even a sliver of special interest from you. but sentinel himself is a whole different conversation: conniving, shrewd, and self-serving to the point of tyranny, those who knew him behind his curated facade feared him. but while you've seen him bask in the sight of soldiers cowering at his pedes, you knew that for sentinel, nothing comes close to the feeling of being adored.

you've seen his optics and how they gleam under the sun as he steps out of his balcony to greet his naive citizens, chassis puffed out and preening as they worship him.

often you wonder how his people would react to seeing him for who he is: this cruel, deceitful pretender full of dirty little secrets. and considering that you've become one of those secrets, it gave you a sense of thrill to know that you could easily expose him: if not for a false saviour, for the mech he becomes when he's under you.

once you've discovered just how pliable the mech is under your touch, what started as a seductive technique to secure more energon for the hive turned into a weapon. you had your suspicions, from how you'd catch him staring at your cleavage (because he thought you were too busy reading the documents in your hand) to the subtle twitch of his fingers every time you furiously curse him.

before you would always have to go the extra mile to chase him down the hallways to yell your threats at him, these days you have the titan mass displaced and writhing beneath you, mouth gagged with the tie you always make an effort to wear for 'work'. with both thighs around his waist, knees pressed against the metal berth so that your cunt remains suspended over his weeping spike, you glide two fingers past the seam of his metal plating to stroke his neck cables: once, twice. he shudders at the contact, optics fluttering shut as his hips impatiently bucked upwards. but you pulled away, dragging a needy cry out of his vocal box.

" we had a deal, sentinel," you warned, ignoring how he jerked at the feel of your fingers gliding down his midsection. " haven't i been nice to you? since you didn't keep up your end of the bargain, maybe i should just leave you like this?"

he let out a sharp whine in protest.

maybe sentinel was also your dirty little secret, because as pathetic as you find the mech, you find your heart racing whenever he eagerly gets on his knees.

sentinel was never meant to rule, he was forged to serve : eager and subservient, all ready for you. his arrogance long forgotten, buried next to his pride.

and truly, there was a certain kind of thrill seeing him like this: eagle-spread with servos chained up to the wall, arms pulled up to either side of his helm, sleek, metal legs quivering against your skin.

you think blue is a nice look on sentinel, but maybe not as nice as desperation.

#sentinel prime #megtrns #sentine prime tf one #tf one #transformers one #transformers #maccadam #sentinel prime x reader

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midnightsnyx · 3 months ago

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Could you do a comfort Nico blurb where the reader has a bad day and just shows up at his apartment without warning and he takes care of her? I just feel like he’d be really good at knowing what you need without having to ask

love this!!! no warnings besides not edited and reader having a bad day. just fluff that made me a little nauseous.

requests are open 🩵

it started when you slept in. you rushed to get ready for work, missing breakfast, trying not to be late. then, your car wouldn't start so you had to call an Uber. your boss wasn't pleased that you were late so you felt like you were walking on eggshells all day.

so, after work, you didn't take an Uber to your apartment - you gave the driver Nico's apartments address. he somehow always knew how to make you feel better, without you needing to say anything.

this leaves you standing in front of his door, a little hesitant to knock because you sometimes worry about bothering him. he's probably tired from practice but before you can change your mind, the door swings open and Nico is standing there with a lopsided smile on his face.

"you've been standing at the door for ten minutes," he says, leaning against the wall. "something on your mind?"

"bad day," is all you have to say and he's ushering you inside. he directs you to the couch, wraps a blanket around your shoulders and puts your comfort show on the tv.

you've long ago tried to refuse his mother hen behavior. he insists on doing what he can to help when you have a bad day. when it comes to boyfriends, you've won the jackpot with Nico.

although you haven't been dating long, you were friends long before you started dating. the two of you were always teetering on line between friends and more, so eventually, one of your friends and one of his, put the two of you in a room and told you to "figure it out".

needless to say, you were dating within the hour.

"here," he says softly, handing you a cup of tea and sitting next to you. he wraps an arm around you and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"have i ever told you that you're the best?" you murmur and he chuckles softly.

"all the time. but it wouldn't hurt to hear it," he jokes but you want him to know how much you appreciate him so you lift your head and punctuate each word with a kiss, starting at his neck and leading to his lips.

"you're," kiss. "the," kiss. "best", kiss.

he smiles into the last kiss, pulling you closer and just like that, your bad day is forgotten.

#allies writing #allie answers #hockey imagines #hockey blurb #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine

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thirstywoso · 9 months ago

Text

Frustration | Niamh Charles x Reader

A/n: I haven't written a fic in around 7 years but after that "we are Chelsea" episode with Niamh I had to write this. It's not edited and it might not be very good but if you enjoy and want a pt2 or more fics send in your requests

Warnings: smut 18+ mdni

A little angst if you squint, fingering r receiving, oral r receiving, thigh riding, squirting, praise kink and masturbation

Word count: 3k

Let's go

Just like most days you were sat in the passenger seat of your girlfriends Skoda Enyaq, this time on your way to Jessie's new apartment for a bonding night with your other team mates.

Although you had your license Niamh preferred to be the designated driver in your relationship before you'd left your house you did insist to her that you we're more than capable of driving seeing as she had yet to drive around that part of Cobham. Just like you knew she would she declined and slipped into the drivers seat. Sighing defeatedly you huffed into your seat. Your girlfriend just smirking at you handing you the aux.

"Baby, you know you're my passenger princess and you are better at playing the car DJ" Niamh giggled.

"Fine!" You mocked offence.

Once down the road and into unfamiliar territory for Niamh you began to direct her telling her what lane to be in and when to signal even though she had the satnav on. She let you carry on a few times before huffing!

"Y/n/n, I've got it"

You knew she hated backseat drivers but you were just trying to be helpful, after a few moments singing along to one of the songs you had put on you'd all but forgotten not to direct Niamh's driving.

"You're in the wrong lane, Jessie's road is the last exit on the rounda... bout" you mumbled out the last part when you caught her eye and she had that stern look plastered on her face. You suddenly remembered what you had done, Niamh wasn't easily frustrated but you knew that was one of her pet peeves.

You could tell she'd stiffened up slightly where she was trying to keep calm and so you put your hand on her thigh and gave her a soft smile. She softened in your touch and smiled asking you to turn up the music as it was one of your favourite songs playing.

"Turning saints into the sea.." you sang in unison as you pulled up in front of Jessie's apartment noting some of your other team mates cars in the lot.

By now you had been at Jessie's for a few hours you'd all watched a movie, had eaten the pizza's you'd collectively ordered and had played some of the games as that's usually what you do at a games night.

You were currently playing Pictionary and you were on a team with Jessie whilst Niamh was with Guro, Aggie was with Cat and Zecira was with Nathalie. You and Jessie were winning by miles whereas Niamh and Guro weren't having as much luck. Yourselves mocking and teasing them, it was then you saw the way your girlfriends jaw clenched that she was genuinely annoyed at herself losing.

"Baby don't worry you'll do better next time" you laughed.

"Yeah baby, maybe we will go easy next time" Jessie mocked.

"Give over Jess, you know I could crush you any day of the week"

"Niamhy it's okay Jess was only kidding"

"Yeah Charles it's all good"

"Whatever, let's play a different game"

It wasn't often you drank considering you were a professional athlete much similar to the other girls in your presence, that's why at team bonding nights you all usually got carried away.

As it was getting later and you'd all had a fair bit to drink, Guro suggested that it would be fun to play a game of truth or dare. Which if it went the way it usually did would end in drama.

"Guro you have to go first as it was your idea, so truth or dare?" You questioned

"Hmm, dare"

After a few seconds of trying to come up with a dare for Guro, Aggie chimes in.

"I dare you to chug the rest of your drink"

"Easy" she retorted after swallowing her mouthful and tipping the now empty bottle upside down.

Zecira seemed slightly bored of the tame dares yawning slightly and took it upon herself to spice things up.

"Let's amp it up a little ladies, Jessie truth or dare?"

"Dare"

"I dare you to kiss y/n for at least 5 seconds"

"But.. Niamh"

"But.. but it's just a game Niamh won't care, will you Niamh"

"Sure go ahead" Niamh said nonchalantly, although when you looked at her to gauge how she was really feeling you could see a tinge of jealous behind the smile on her face.

"Fine"

With that Jessie leant over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away slightly, before she had fully sank back to where she was sitting you pulled her back in for a slightly longer kiss which she reciprocated.

"Finally, that's what I'm talking about"

Zecira always loved in her words to 'liven the party'

After a few more rounds and the feeling of Niamh's eyes burning into you, it was your turn.

"I'm going to go with truth"

Nobody had asked you yet but you had already given licked whipped cream off of Guro's cheek and gave Niamh a lap dance which definitely did not start a fire down below for her and the blush in her cheeks was from the alcohol she was drinking and couldn't possibly be anything else. You saw a smirk appear on Zecira's face and almost regretted asking for a truth.

"Who's a better kisser Niamh or Jessie"

Everyone's heads whipped around to look at you, Niamh almost getting whiplash and Jessie's cheeks burning red. You hesitated to answer because it was such a silly question, well to you at least. You soon realised that maybe hesitating wasn't a great idea because Niamh soon got up and stormed out onto Jessie's balcony.

"Thanks Z"

You went out into the balcony and shut the door, Niamh didn't even turn to look at you, she knew you were there but in the moment she didn't even want to look at you.

"Why'd you hesitate y/n/n?"

"What..? Baby please don't be silly right now. I didn't answer because it's obvious, you're the best kisser out there.. not that I kiss other girls. I mean not that I haven't in the past but you know since you and me, me and you"

Niamh chuckled whilst she turned and cupped your cheek kissing you gently.

"Sweetie shh, I know. I just get jealous sometimes like maybe you could do better than me and Jessie is so amazing and after seeing you kiss earlier it just kind of hit a nerve"

You kissed her again in reassurance

"You know you're cute when you ramble though, I'm sorry I walked out. My emotions are just not as in check as I'd like them to be, what with your backseat driving, losing game night and seeing you kiss my best friend"

"You're just a sore loser Niamhy but you know I only ever want you"

"Well after that lap dance I really want you"

"I'm that good huh?"

"That good" she smirked

"How about we head home and we sort out how emotionally.. and sexually frustrated you are honey"

Niamh didn't need asking twice she grabbed your hand and dragged you back inside. Making some poor excuse about not feeling well and needing to go home and she will make it up to them. With that she shoved you out the door quickly following bundling you into a taxi home.

Your teammates looking at each other knowingly and giggling at Niamh's excuse this time because this happened most game nights.

When you got back home Niamh couldn't unlock the door quick enough, when you finally did get inside you both kicked your shoes off somewhere random on the floor as a tomorrow problem.

Within seconds Niamh had you over her shoulder carrying you to the bedroom, you knew all that extra time she was spending in weight training was paying off.

After kicking the bedroom door closed Niamh dropped you onto the bed making quick work of her clothes and nodding at you to do the same.

Soon both of your sets of clothes were discarded haphazardly on the floor, Niamh signalled for you to move up the bed. You pushed yourself back until your head rested on your pillows and Niamh crawled on the bed above you.

For a second you thought she was having doubts because she hoovered above you staring down admiring the way your lip tucked behind your teeth and your chest heaved with need.

"Baby, if you'd rather not tonight we can cuddle instead"

"NO" she practically yelled

"Sorry, no I want to but I just couldn't help but take you all in, I can't believe you're mine sometimes" admiration dripping off every word.

"Shut up" you giggled and gently slapped her arm. Which flexed under your touch causing your breath to hitch. Niamh smirked knowingly and with that pressed her thigh down into your centre leading to another gasp.

Before long her lips were back on yours deepening the kiss, feeling your tongue run gently against her lower lip. Sighing and relaxing into the kiss. Your fingers scratching gently and the nape of her neck and tangling in the fine hairs there.

Biting your lip and carefully pulling away, her lips attached themselves to your neck slowly trailing up and down sucking on your weak points. Her favourite was just below your ear where your jaw met your neck, she could spend all day there if you let her. Listening to the way your breathing sped up and the small whimpers you made.

Niamh kept her attention there for awhile before sinking lower, peppering your chest with lazy kisses before taking your left peak into mouth and gently sucking and rolling the bud with her tongue. She meant on her elbow and caressed your face whilst swapping to your right breast and paying it the same attention.

Her free hand snaking between your legs making you gasp as she hit the jackpot. Her finger teasingly fuming through your folds causing her to smirk against your chest, mumbling around your nipple causing the vibrations to stir something in your lower stomach.

"So fucking wet for me"

"All for you" your head stretched back against the pillow eyes screwed shut needing more. Tight circles started to be drawn around your clit before gliding back between your folds just before it became too much. She knew your body well and better than yourself sometimes.

Your hands soon found their way into her hair as she kissed her way down your toned stomach and along your inner thighs. She continued to tease you before looking up at you. Two of her digits circling your entrance, she gave you a questioning look which you answered with a small nod.

"Words baby, you know I don't find anything sexier than consent"

"I always want to make sure you enjoy what I do and that you want it as much as me"

"Please Niamhy"

With that she sunk two fingers into you, your back arched slightly and she pressed gentle kisses to your thigh as she worked herself into you. It didn't take long for her to find a comfortable rhythm and it helped with you being so wet.

Then came the sensation of her gently blowing against your clit which made your legs twitch. Before you knew it her tongue was gently aiding her fingers between your legs and darted out of her soft pink lips rapidly as she lapped at your sensitive bud.

Alternating between suckling and flicking her tongue over where you needed her most. More of your juices coated her fingers and with that she slipped in a third which was rewarded with a moan that ripped from deep inside you. Curling her fingers deep inside you whilst you grabbed and her hair pulling her impossibly closer.

"Good girl baby, you're such a good girl for me"

Niamh knew how much you loved being called a good girl during sex and it worked you felt yourself getting closer to your peak.

"That's it baby, you gonna cum for me"

"Pl..please"

"Go ahead"

With a few more thrusts you were coming apart underneath her moaning her name, which she would deny but was a massive ego boost for her.

She then kissed her way back up your body before using her hips to aid in thrusting her fingers harder into you.

"One more please baby"

Before you even had a second to think your eyes went white with pleasure and you felt yourself gush into Niamh's palm.

"Fuckkkkk"

She had the biggest dopiest shit eating grin on her face, so pleased with herself.

"I didn't know you could do that"

"Neither did I" you said shyly

"Please don't be embarrassed, that was so fucking hot"

Kidding you sweetly before asking if you were ready for her to pull out. When you nodded she removed her fingers making your legs twitch slightly as your pussy ached to me touched again after what happened next.

Niamh took her finger into her mouth swirling her tongue around them cleaning every last drop of you off of her digits.

Her lips reconnected with yours before you could even think of something to say, tasting yourself of her lips brought another rush of wetness to your core.

You flipped over your positions straddling Niamh's muscular thigh which she tensed below you. Her hands gently squeezing on your breasts as you ground down. Your sensitive nub bumping along each definition.

"You want more?"

You knew she wasn't judging you and was just more curious about your needs than anything.

"Almost there"

Your hips rutted against her becoming more staggered the closer you got. Collapsing back on top of her after your third orgasm. Groaning in her ear as you came down, only adding to the rush of wetness between her own thighs.

"Your turn" you mumbled sleepily

"Not tonight sweetie you're warm out, let me clean you up"

You didn't argue, you knew she was right and you were too tired to reciprocate. You weren't as worried as you would've been at the start of your relationship because you know that not every time is about give and take and some days it's just better to give than receive and visa versa. Although you'd never turn down your favourite meal. Niamh.

Whilst you were thinking about how lucky you were Niamh came back into the room with a wash cloth and some water for you which you happily sipped as Niamh carefully cleaned you up without trying to overstimulate you.

Once finished you cuddled up under the duvet, entwining your legs with Niamh's only for her to let out a little gasp as your leg connected with her centre by accident.

"What was that?"

"Nnnothing"

"It certainly didn't sound like nothing, you're still worked up aren't you?"

Niamh nodded her head but reiterated that she didn't want any reciprocation because she knew your body was exhausted.

"Fine, I won't touch you but I want you to touch yourself for me"

"Baby no, let's cuddle and get some sleep"

With that you gently cupped her discovering how wet she really was, she rolled her eyes in response.

"Please Niamhy, for me. I want to watch you get off for me"

Niamh didn't make an effort to move.

"It'll be incredibly hot knowing your thinking about me and then tomorrow it's my turn to treat you like a queen"

Niamh sighed knowing you wouldn't let up and knew it would be quicker to get it other with so you could go to sleep.

Niamh slid her fingers between her legs as you pulled back the duvet to watch. Her fingers slipped between her pretty pink lips and sunk into herself. She wasn't one for teasing when it came to herself. She had a job and she wanted to get it done.

"That's it baby add another for me, stretch out that tight pussy for me"

Niamh groaned as she added a second finger her brows furrowing and her lip caught between her teeth as she concentrated on your voice, you wrapped your hand around her wrist so you could feel closer to her enjoying the way her tendons flexed against your fingers with every thrust inside herself.

You didn't know where to look eyes darting back and forth between where her fingers disappeared and the concentrated and determined look on her face.

It didn't take long as she was so worked up

"Please can I cum baby?"

"Hmm I don't know"

"Don't fucking tease me, I'm so close! Please!"

You loved hearing her pleas and beg but tonight you just wanted to see her satisfied.

"That's it baby let go"

Niamh's head snapped back as she released. After a few minutes of catching her breath she disappeared to the bathroom cleaning herself up. She slipped into a pair of your training shorts and one of your old college tees. In return she brought you some of England shorts and a UCLA shirt Jessie had given to her one time after she'd gone back to visit.

She helped you into the clothes before laying down and pulling you onto her chest. Your head resting listing to her chest rise and fall rhythmically, your legs draped over hers. She kissed the top of your head and tucked you both under the duvet.

After awhile you thought she had fallen asleep as her breathing was shallow and steady.

"I love you Niamh"

"I love you too y/n"

"Now get some sleep"

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso smut #niamh charles #Niamh Charles fic #Niamh Charles smut #jessie fleming #Jessie Fleming smut #Jflem

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pix-writes · 3 months ago

Note

for requests. . . how about an x reader where reader pegs Ford 👀? Is he open to the idea?

Oh I think we can arrange such a thing! >:) Hope you enjoy!

Ford x F!Reader | In Theory and in Practice

Notes/tags: Ford and reader have some limited past experiences, but tried to keep it a little vague. That said though, I do allude to them to be both bi/had experiences with someone of the same sex as them. Anal smut, some Dom/sub dynamics and switching.

NSFW 18+ below cut, so MDNI!

The subject comes up from you, the conversations you get into around pleasure with Ford often end up in the logical sphere, starting lightly before anything more heated can arise. It was something to enjoy about your partnership, comforting in the pragmatic and somewhat direct, open way in which Ford spoke about such things. It reduced both of your anxieties and any reservations that you had about bringing up anything that you wanted.

Your partner still got flustered, however, and you were a little tentative in how you brought up this next subject.

"I never got to try it in any of my other relationships with men, some seem to think it's not important to involve the prostate in sex."

"The prostate when stimulated gives men pleasure, so I see no reason why it should not be, um, paid attention to. I certainly haven't had any reservations when I have been on my own, in the past."

"And with others?"

Ford did blush a little at this. "In relationships with other men, yes. And with you."

"Yes, but technically it was you who was doing it, Ford." You paused to take a breath before asking your next question. "What if I did?"

Your partner looked stunned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I'd never thought about it before?"

You ask him if he ever heard of pegging, he hadn't and you did your best to lay out what it meant, slowly, despite your eagerness at Ford's receptiveness, so far.

"But how would you...?" Was one of his questions and you couldn't help but giggle. You knew he didn't like to be on the backfoot or feel that you were laughing at his expense, but how could you not help but be amused by his perplexed expression, his innocence when it came to the gaps in his knowledge?

"Oh Ford, have I not told you yet about the wonders of silicone?!"

Ford didn't take long to mull over the decision on whether he would like to explore it, in fact, you knew him to be as eager as you were, despite never knowing about pegging before bringing it up, though none of this should have surprised you, you thought, looking back on it. Ford wasn't a stereotypical man and did not have many qualms when it came to experiencing new things. All the more reason you were excited! Though you knew that he was going to take his time with researching it, but you could wait.

As the days passed he added his small questions about what you had planned, one here, one there. He would hum and nod and maybe ask for more clarification or an adjustment. In fact, he inisted that you practice putting the strap on you ordered, once it came.

"Can I see it?"

"I think the straps are too tight, how do I-?" You were glancing around for the instructions, to see Ford already had them to hand.

"Here, like this." He gently tugs on the threads and it loosens, relieving the indents that were already appearing over your skin.

Self consciousness ate at you, unable to hide that you felt so clueless you let out a nervous laugh. "I'm sorry! This is... it just feels silly!"

"It is a little bizarre!" Ford joins in with your laughter. "But preparation makes all the difference, my dear."

Once it came to the moment, however, Ford had forgotten what a disparity there was between theory and practice! It had been so long since he had ever been in this position (metaphorically, rather than physically in the same position... but, you get the idea!) and he was starting to remember how vulnerable it can feel...

You've been working him open steadily, using plenty of lube that you kept beside you, Ford encouraging you and helping direct your movements to what he found most pleasurable, voice strained already.

He could feel that pressure and heat from how you slide in, one of your hands coming to soothingly rub at his back, reminding him to relax into it, to adjust. When he gives you encouragement to move, he can feel your form pressing into his. Your hold on him was so gentle, the tenderness made him feel like he was adrift.

He cried out as you set a firmer pace and you stilled for a moment.

"Ford?"

He groaned. "Keep... keep going, baby."

Ford reaches round to find your hand and you let him intertwine your fingers together, placing your hand further forward so the hold would be comfortable.

"You're doing so well. You know that?" You placed kisses over his shoulder before resuming your steady pace. " So good for me, Ford."

The toy that you had gotten was one that had an end that sat just inside your entrance, the pressure of it working you up. Arousal pooling in your belly as you thrust your hips into him.

He looked so beautiful underneath you, his back arched. God, he was a sight to behold. And so you told him, words spoken as you caught your breath. Knowing the words were affecting him from experience if not from the way his breathing changed, those little noises he made that you so desperately wanted to hear, the ones that went straight to your core.

You were taking your time though and Ford began to rock back into your touch, impatient.

Ford whined your name, turning his head, pupils blown wide. "Don't hold back."

It was somewhat rare that he ever got into an impatient mood, the man was unflappable most of the time. A wicked smile started to spread across your face as you tapped at his side, getting to move upwards, into more of a sitting position before grabbing a fistful of his hair, pulling him back into your chest, an arm coming to rest across his broad chest as he squirmed.

"What was that, hm?"

"Ah, please! Please, I want you to touch me, please."

"So polite." You said teasingly.

Adjusting your grip on his hair your pace became firmer, hand roaming down his chest to touch his achingly hard cock.

"That's it." Ford's moans were rising into a delicious background orchestra and you prided yourself on the knowledge that you had worked him up so much.

"W-wait! I want to see you when I- want to touch you, please?" His voice wavered, unsure of his own wants when he was so close to the edge.

"This is about you, Ford." You considered for a moment. "But you can turn around, if you wish."

It was a more awkward shuffle compared to the last, but the break in the tension didn't last long; the heat rising to your face as you saw how wrecked Ford looked, hair stuck up at different angles. Legs rising to wrap around you, the muscles there flexing against your hips. You wondered what you must've looked like to him in such a position, when the roles were reversed. Was this why he liked it?

Ford was practically melting into the mattress by the time your hands were on him again. That first rate brain of his switching off thoughts and transferring to focus on pleasure. He pulled you in so that he could kiss you, in between your praises and moans.

"So good for me, darling."

"Such a good boy."

"Fuck, cum for me!"

Eyes focused on your angelic face above him, he came. His release coating his stomach, and your hand, still firm on his cock as he rode his orgasm out with a shuddering moan.

Pulling out, you collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, letting Ford take over. First wiping you both down, then releasing you from the strap, soon replacing the end of the toy with his fingers, his mouth grazing your breast hungrily as he laid beside you.

He cursed under his breath. "Oh, sweetheart, you're soaked."

Hot kisses trailed across your skin. "You don't have to. T-this, mmn, was about you."

He tutted, a glint entering his eyes. "But I thought I was your good boy. Don't you want me to make you cum? You've gotten so wet for me."

You whimpered, answering with a nod as you carded hand through his hair, gently, this time.

#stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you #ford pines x reader #ford pines x you #ford pines smut #gravity falls fanfiction #celebration request #pix replies

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dre6ming · 10 months ago

Text

On set of Dune II

This part of “The delicate beginning rush” universe- whole series HERE

If you want to be tagged

Masterlist

Pairing: Austin Butler x fem reader

Warning: smut 18+, blow job, cursing, MINORS PLEASE BE AWARE

Word count: 2k

Plot: you want to surprise Austin on the set of dune 2 and he gets shy about his fight scenes, but that is all forgotten when you work your magic on him.

A/n: this was a request by someone and it was so exciting to write, if you have more, send them to me and I’ll get to them as soon as I can.

With my busy schedule I barely got my assistant to fit this surprise flight to Budapest, so I could visit Austin on set of Dune 2. We haven't seen each other in person in 5 weeks, filming taking all of our time, on opposite sides of the world. It's not easy and it definitely is not pleasant, but we aren't the first nor the last to go through long distance. I have a few days off, time which I should have spend in the studio with Taylor, who's working on her new album, but I could not stay any longer without seeing Aus.

"Y/n so nice to meet you in person, I'm Denis. I have to say, I look forward to some day working with you, you're amazing!" The director says, putting his hand forward for me to shake. I smile kindly at him and take his hand. "Oh that's so beautiful of you to say, I look forward to that day as well, your work is so detailed and ambitious." I giggle, blushing a bit at his compliments. "Now I know this is a surprise for Austin, I did not say anything" he zips his lips closed chuckling "but you do have to sign some papers, just formalities you know." I nod and sign away, promising not to tell anything that I see today to anyone. "He's working, full make up, so brace yourself, it's really, it's a bit scary, come on."

Denis puts his hand on my shoulder and leads the way, as we walk I can start hearing grunting and thudding and all sorts of scenes. I am a bit worried about seeing Austin in full make up and acting like this psychotic character, considering that after the first time seeing him over video in full makeup I had a horrible nightmare. Granted he did call me at 3 am in the morning and I did answer kinda unconsciously, but still. There's big lights centered on two figures in the middle of a blue room, the rest is pretty dimly lit, so my eyes take a moment to adjust. I could recognize Austin's grunts anywhere, having had them in my ear for so long, so my knees feel a bit weak, my skin already hungry to feel him.

As I get used to the light, I see Austin move so athletically, jumping back avoiding hits, then throwing some good punches himself. He's been working very hard in the gym gaining a few pounds of muscle, looking toned like never before. God he looks so weird with this make up, I miss his blonde curly hair, thank god for the other movie he's filming, and this is all a fake bald cap. The other guy he's fighting with, uses a small knife, which I'm pretty sure it's fake but still scary. He swings it, in front of Austin's face and next thing I know he falls to the ground, catching himself mid fall, turning his head to the camera, showing his face full of blood. I stifle a scream, covering my mouth, feeling my heart pounding in my chest, I look at everyone, no one seems to notice. Austin flashes a smile, black teeth showing, with trembling hands I push my hair behind my ears and try and act as if I had known this was all an act.

"Cut! Austin man, amazing! Let's get makeup in here and clean it up, I want to shoot it one more time. Let's take five!" Denis says, and suddenly Austin's whole demeanor changes, it's so strange, he looks so scary, but his stance is so Austin. I clear my voice and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, walking forward. Austin, being the sweet guy he is, is shaking hands with his partner. "Hi there stranger, need a tissue? I think you got a bloody nose." As soon as he hears my voice, he turns around, scooping my up in a tight hug, getting fake blood all over me. "Y/n!" Austin says, holding me tight to his chest, his lips kissing my neck, leaving wet splashes of fake blood. "Did you miss me baby?" I ask, patting his back, as my feet touch the ground. He doesn't answer, instead, his hands hold my face and he pulls me in for a kiss. It wet and bitter, even a bit sticky, but it tastes like him still. Austin breathes into the kiss, his tongue, entering my mouth exploring. I lace my hands around his neck and moan into him, forgetting for a minute where we are.

Austin pulls back resting his forehead on mine, breathing softly. "What are you doing here?" He asks a smile evident in his tone. I giggle when he rubs his nose against mine, pulling back to look at me. "Oh fuck, I got fake blood all over you, honey I'm so sorry!" He tries to wipe it with the back of his hand, but I take it away, holding his hand in mine. "It's fine, I'm just glad it's fake, I thought it was real." Austin can see that I'm as honest as they come and his eyes look sympathetic "I'm so sorry darling, I didn't mean to worry you!" He says, kissing my forehead head, then grunting annoyed. "I really should stop kissing you now." He says, rubbing his thumb over my forehead, on what I'm assuming is another fake blood stain. "You look so buff and scary, so so hot!" I say biting my lip.

"Really?" Even though all this white makeup I can see the slight blush he has on, turning all shy and avoiding eye contact. "So so hot!" I stand on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, feeling him shiver as my breath fans over his skin. "I can't wait for you to make those pretty noises for me!" I laugh, but my breath gets stuck in my throat as his arms circle around me and he pulls me in, flush to his front. "Baby these leather pants are very very tight and leave no room." He says rubbing his pelvis in mine so I can feel his hard on. My blood starts boiling and I can almost see myself with him on top of me.

"Ask for ten minutes, bathroom break or something." I plead under my breath. Austin looks hesitant, but he still does it anyway. Denis gives his ok and we bolt to his trailer, knowing we don't have much time. I laugh all the way there and he tries to make small talk, telling me all about how filming as been going so far, event this he's already told all this stuff. I listen, but in the back of my head I'm far gone.

We close the door to his trailer and his lips are on mine instantly. His hands hold mine down, so that I won't be able to try and thread my fingers through his nonexistent hair. "Get on the bed!" I say breathless and step back, letting him move past me and onto the bed. "Y/n, my darling, I've missed you so so much." Austin says, sitting on his bed, leaning back a bit, legs spread wide, sporting a noticeable bulge. "I've missed you too." I admit and move in front of him, placing my hand in his hard on, squeezing him through his pants. "Fuck!" He says, throwing his head back. I work his pants open and slide them down enough to free his hard dick, looking red and needy. I lick my lips and get down on my knees. This would be my first time ever doing anything like this, but I've been thinking about it a lot and I've been wanting to try.

"Y/n y/n, no no baby you don't have to, honey come on!" Austin tries to lift me off the ground but I keep my position. "I want to, but I've never done it before, so if I do something wrong, just tell me. Please!" I bat my lashes at him and his hips thrust in the air. "Just, ok, but take it easy ok?" I nod and hold him in my hand. I spit on him and move my hand up and down, using my thumb to touch his head gathering more sleek from there. I can already feel my panties getting wet, so I squeeze my thighs together. I lean forward and take him in my mouth. So far he's been quiet, but now that my warm mouth is on him, he lets out a long breathy moan, fisting the sheets beside him. "Fuck, you are an angel! I love you so much!" He tastes salty, but good in a way. I swirl my tongue around and suck, bopping my head up and down. One of his big hands leaves the sheets and finds purchase in my hair. I moan around him and feel him shiver as a few more cures slip past his lips.

God I've missed him. "Fuck baby, you look so beautiful with your mouth around my cock, do you like it? Like how I fit in your mouth?" I love when Austin talks dirty to me, so I moan, picking up the pace, causing him to fall back on the bed, crying out In pleasure. I finally understand why he loves to do this for me, I think I could watch him like this for ages and not get bored. I feel him twitch in my mouth, so I move my free hand from his thigh, to his balls, squeezing softly. "Shit, fucking hell!" He grunts, pushing his hips a bit in my mouth. "Y/n, baby, I'm not going to last long, if you don't want it in your mouth, I'll tell you when ok?" I nod, but I know want it in my mouth, I've tasted him before, after giving him hand jobs, so now I'm more than eager to get a taste of him.

I sneak my hand under his balls and push slightly on the spot there, which causes Austin to jump off the bed a bit, pushing himself further down my throat making me gag, tears prickle my eyes. I breathe through my nose and relax for him, working on him, pushing on that secret spot. "Fuck, Y/n, baby that feels so good, ahh I'm cu-" he doesn't get to finish what he has to say, as his body goes rigid and he spills himself into my mouth. I stay calm and swallow him whole, enjoying they way it feels. When he's done, I let him out of my mouth, give him a few more strokes, ending with a kiss to his head, smiling at the way he curses.

He lifts me up into his arms and I lay my head in his chest. "Wow, are you sure you've never done this before? Because this must have been the best I've ever had!" Austin says out of breath. I giggle and kiss under his chin. "I like to read, I learn what I read." I explain, sighing when he moves his head to kiss my lips. His hand travels down my body and gives my ass a good squeeze, making me yelp, so he can sneak his tongue into my mouth.

A knock on the door as us parting, him quickly putting his pants on and me, wiping my face with a tissue. "Back on set!" A voice shouts from the other side of the door. "In a minute!" Austin screams back, trying to make himself as presentable as possible. "Can I come watch you some more?" I ask, turning the water on to was the dried fake blood from my face. I look back at Austin and he looks so timid now, scratching the back of his head. "I mean of course baby..."

"Aus..? What's up?" I ask using a towel to dry my face, while I look at him, his eyes wondering the room, avoiding mine. "Well I guess I'm just a tad shy, you know, I have to act pretty barbaric out there and I feel so silly, I'm just I don't know.." he says dropping his head. I get close to him and take his hands in mine, rubbing slow circles on his knuckles. "You don't look silly, you look fierce, and bold and scary, you have nothing to be shy about." I say kissing the tip of his nose. "Now come on big boy, you've got work to do, and the faster you finish here, the sooner you get to make love to me!" I wink at him and he chockes on his laughter, blushing a deep red.

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mixed-imagination · 2 years ago

Text

A Grisha's Affair - Nikolai x Grisha!Reader x Kirigan (part 1)

PAIRING: Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Grisha!reader x General Kirigan ♡

NOTE: This is the first part of a short two parter.

*** Requested by @seronsalk

*** Beautiful golden divider created by @saradika ♡♡♡

As you neared the rear entrance of the Little Palace, your heart raced within your chest, drumming a quick and frantic beat. You had pushed yourself to the limit, sprinting down the forest path until your lungs burned and your breath came in ragged gasps. You cursed yourself and wondered why you had driven yourself to that point anyway.

A sudden memory flooded your mind, creating a rush of emotions.

You pounded on Nikolai's door. You weren't sure why you were so eager to see him, but you chalked it up to wanting only to say goodbye.

The door swung open to reveal Nikolai standing in his untied robe. His face seemed surprised to see you, but with one look at you, he greeted you with a big smile "Y/N, isn’t it past your curfew, little miss Durast?

You mirrored his smile but furrowed your brows, "I'm no longer a child, Nikolai."

"No, you certainly are not." His gaze descended your figure which made your cheeks hot. You were suddenly aware of how exposed and vulnerable you were. There you stood, before this handsome prince, in a thin, lace night dress and silk robe.

You wrapped your robe tighter around your frame, praying Nikolai did not catch a glimpse of the cold night air exposing your natural body, "Let me in."

"Won't you get in trouble with your Darkling?”

"I haven't seen him in weeks," you pushed past him and headed straight to the opposite side of his room. You settled in front of his desk, leaning your hands back against the chair.

Nikolai shut the door and his smile widened. He waited for you to continue speaking but it didn't come, so he responded, "Am I his replacement then?"

“General Kirigan?”

“The one and only Darkling.”

"What, no, of course not. First off, he’s my superior, and you’re no way near—" You huffed, "Stop. I'm not here to be questioned by you."

Nikolai laughed, "Right. Go on then."

The halls were dimly lit, and you realized you had never ventured through the palace this late before. You prayed that no one had noticed you sneaking back in after your late-night rendezvous. You didn't want to risk General Kirigan finding out about your secret meetings.

The unfamiliarity of your surroundings and the thought of what might be waiting for you made you quicken your pace as fast as you could without running. As you rounded the next corner, your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart.

You crossed your arms, "So tomorrow you leave again."

"As soon as the sun rises, I'm off," Nikolai did not come closer to you. Instead, he copied your position and leaned his back against the door frame.

You found your gaze inevitably drawn to the way his torso muscles rippled underneath his robe with each subtle movement, causing you to bite your lip in frustration at the unyielding distance between you.

"And where are you going to this time?"

"Novyi Zem." Your chest ached, knowing well how long the journey would be. "There's a talented Fabrikator there that's willing to create a strong steel for my newest creation."

Your jaw dropped slightly. You were slightly offended but your playful tone remained, "What? Fabrikator? Have you forgotten I'm a durast? You could've asked me to—"

Nikolai finally stepped forward and raised his hands, "Y/N no, you're one of my closest friends, I couldn't—"

Friend.

A memory of his mouth on yours suddenly flashed in your mind.

Friends don't kiss.

You ignored it.

Breathless and with a light sheen of sweat on your forehead, you finally reached the entrance to your wing of the palace. You could see the guards standing, their eyes watching your every move.

You tried to act casual, as if you had simply been out for a stroll in the gardens, but your heart was racing with fear. What if they could somehow sense your guilt and apprehend you on the spot?

You approached them with a smile and a greeting, hoping to deflect their attention. They nodded politely, but you could tell they were eyeing you suspiciously.

As you made your way down your long corridor, you felt relieved to see the door to your bedroom. You couldn't believe you had gotten away with it.

You giggled to yourself, remembering once again.

"Saints, Nikolai, that's exactly why you should've asked me!" your head tilted and you tutted, "I bet I could do your fabrikator better."

"Better than 80,000 tensile strength?"

"100,000 tensile strength and more!"

He threw his head back, "Oh no, you're joking. Really?"

Your face broke into a big grin. "Yes, yes, yes, you bet your royal arse I can,” you laughed.

Like always, you fell into an ongoing easy conversation with Nikolai. Talking with him was breath of fresh air as you had a natural understanding of each other. Your conversations always felt like a plunge into an infinite pool that contained both his thoughts and yours.

As you listened to him speak about his latest invention, you couldn't help but get lost in not only his words but also in his boyishly handsome features. His dark blonde hair was perfectly messy and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. You stared at the way his lips moved and how the sharpness of his jawline accentuated with every sentence.

You tried to focus, but your mind kept wandering to other things, like how it would feel to run your hands through his hair and kiss him again. A heat suddenly began to rise in your cheeks, your attraction to him growing more obvious.

Nikolai stood only a few feet away from you now. He started to notice how your eyes seemed to linger on him a little longer than usual. "Are you alright, Y/N?"

You blinked and nodded, "Oh yes, I am."

"Good," he beamed and stepped closer. "So tell me. Why have you come? I've never seen you out this late."

You shrugged, avoiding his eyes, "What? I can't come and spend quality time with my closest friend?"

"Not at this hour, little miss goodie two shoes," he smirked.

You turned with your back facing him now and looked down at his desk, feigning interest in the papers placed on it. "Maybe I wanted to say goodbye. As a friend should."

He scoffed, "Don't say you're actually going to miss me when I'm gone."

"A good, best, closest friend would."

Nikolai was right behind you now. The third time you exaggerated the word, a knowing shit-eating grin grew across his face. "You sound like you have an issue with being my friend."

You finally entered your room and firmly pressed both palms against the door, shutting it behind you. Leaning your forehead against the cool wood, you lingered in that stance, still lost in your reverie.

"I am but your friend Nikolai, I have no issue."

Unexpectedly, the weight of his hand resting on your shoulder sent a shiver down your spine, your silk robe providing little barrier between his warm palm and your skin. It felt as though his touch had set your nerves alight, leaving you with goosebumps despite the delicate fabric that separated you.

His thumb began tracing circles on your shoulder, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. You felt his fingers slowly making their way down your arm, gently squeezing your skin. He was leaving a trail of fire along your shoulder as they traveled back up to your neck, only to slowly descend down again. With a deft movement, he pulled your silk robe down your shoulder. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of desire through your body.

"You stubborn thing. You don't want to be my friend, Y/N?"

He then swept your hair away, revealing a tantalizing sliver of skin to his gaze. As he leaned down, you felt his warm breath tickling your ear. "Nikolai," you whispered breathlessly.

"Why are you really here, love?" his voice was low and seductive.

You suddenly felt wet, tender kisses trail down your neck, causing your core to ignite. The sound of your mingled breaths and the soft smack of his lips sucking against your skin filled the air. Each touch of his lips made you feel like you were melting, completely powerless to resist him.

His strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him. You could feel his lower abdomen pressing hard against your backside, making you feel weak in the knees. Without warning, he spun you around to face him, his intense gaze locking onto yours. He leaned in for a kiss with his arms still wrapped tightly around you, as if never wanting to let go.

In that moment, all your doubts and fears faded away. It was just you and him, lost in each other.

You replayed the memory over and over again in your mind. The softness of his lips, the way his hands cupped your face, and the way you felt as though time stood still in that moment. You sighed, sinking further into the memory when a voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Penny for your thoughts, Y/N?"

Your heart skipped a beat, startled out of your reverie. As you turned around, your eyes landed on a tall, dark figure.

"Aleksander!"

The corners of his mouth curved upward, "You seemed to be lost in thought, milaya."

♡ part two coming soon....

soooo my brain was formulating the idea for this concept, and originally it was just supposed to be a one part one shot, but idk i just went off LOL. like holy, i went down a rabbit hole and came back up with enough plot for a series.

should i write a series? let me know what you think!!!

if i do, im imagining there'll be some mutual pining, angst, fluff, and spiiiice - wink wink wink -

if you enjoyed, please support me and my writing by giving me a like, reblog, or follow! thanks ♡♡♡

♡ gage

#nikolai lanstov x reader #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #nikolai x reader x kirigan #shadow and bone season 2 #alina starkov x reader #mal oretsev x reader #kaz brekker x reader #nikolai lantsov #general kirigan #mixed-imagination #sankta alina #tolya yul bataar #tolya x reader #tamar yul bataar #inej x reader #nina zenik #aleksander kirigan #shadow and bone

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verycoolusername1 · 1 month ago

Text

But I'm So Blue

Summary: In which you see Jamie with a woman and you get the wrong idea...

Track 4 of fruitcake - cindy lou who

A/N: Cindy Lou Who breaks my heart every time I listen to it but fear not this has a happy ending!

And my first jamie imagine, so happy he made a full recovery :)

There's another upload for fruitcake later today and for those that have sent in requests, I haven't forgotten about them I swear!!!

You've only been talking to Jamie for a couple of weeks. The two of you never had a chance to meet up due to his conflicting schedule and for you to not live in the US.

Jamie was on holiday break now, so he was able to come to Canada to see his family and finally go out with you.

Your heart raced as you saw his name pop up on your phone, a short text.

Jamie: Just landed :))

You smiled at the text and turned your phone off. Who knew waiting in line at a coffee shop could be so time consuming.

You decided to let Jamie settle in and hang out with his family for the day before you two go out. Being on a plane for hours is bound to make someone extra tired.

You got your coffee and went on to do your errands for the rest of the day, spending your day off not doing the one time you wanted to do: rest.

You laid in bed as the night light up the sky, feeling bored you decided to text Jamie.

You: how has your day been?

Jamie immediately texted you back, you chuckled at the fact before reading the message.

Jamie: it's been good! Always nice to see the fam :)

You smiled softly at Jamie's text, he began to type leaving you wonder what he's gonna say next.

Jamie: wanna go out for coffee tomorrow? I'd love to see you in person.

Your breath hitched at the text, your heart racing as you struggled to come up with a response.

You: I would love to! How does 9am sound?

Jamie: Sounds good!

You smiled softly as you turned your phone off before drifting to sleep, excited for what to come.

You woke up several hours with a huge grin on your face, today was the day and you couldn't help feeling like you won a golden ticket.

You got dressed and was out the door in seconds.

You reached the coffee restaurant and you felt your heart shatter in two, you saw Jamie with someone... a woman. You couldn't see her face as Jamie laughed to whatever she was saying.

Jamie saw you and his eyes light up which definitely did not match the fire burning in yours.

You began to walk off before Jamie ran out of the restaurant after you.

"Wait Y/n, where are you going?" Jamie asked.

"Oh really you don't know what I saw in there?" You turned around and laughed sarcastically.

Jamie looked at you in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You could have told me you were seeing someone else! I mean really jamie!" You exaggerated.

"Y/N let me explain, it's not what you think." Jamie tried to reassure you.

"Oh really tell me then Jamie, go ahead!" You were fuming.

"That woman... that you saw me with. She's my mom." Jamie explained.

Jamie opens his phone and showed you a photo of the two of them, you immediately relaxed and you grew embarrassed.

"Oh... I-I'm sorry-" "No you don't have to apologize, just a little misunderstanding. You had every right to get mad at me. I'm sorry for not telling you about my mom."

You nodded slowly. "Right."

Jamie smiled softly as he held your arms. "So we're good?"

You smiled. "Yeah, yeah, we're good."

Jamie pulled you in a hug. "God, you look even better in person."

You laugh softly in his embrace. "Can we go on that date now?"

Jamie grins. "Yeah, yeah, we can."

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl players #verycoolusername1 #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jd9 #philadelphia flyers

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mentally-in-northern-italy · 4 months ago

Text

how did it end? — e.r.

Pairing: Evan Rosier x fem!reader

Summary: Estranged after graduating from Hogwarts, you haven't seen Evan in years when he finally elects to find you again — but his timing isn’t quite right. It never really is.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Do I have 56789 assignments due over the next week? Yes. Did I still choose to finish this year-old drabble up? Also yes. Is it still a drabble? Not really. Not sure if people read for Evan, but here is the drabble that was promised a while ago. Reader and Evan's relationship at Hogwarts is open to interpretation. I really hope I can get my Cedric fic out bc it's rotting in my WIPs.

—

It was tolerable, you suppose, but only just.

The stench of booze mingled with sweat far too often, and the air carried a perpetual weight to it that was hard to ignore. The warmth was nice, yes, but the heat frequently bordered on oppressive on autumn nights such as this one, when the pub was full of bearded wizards and graying witches, boisterous and loud.

Working the bar at the Leaky Cauldron, you had long deigned, was a wholly mindless pursuit, though, and for this, you were glad. At this time of night, no one cared enough to engage in small talk, much too drunk for anything civil. Plus, most were regulars, with orders plainly memorized and simple, satiated often with a glass of Firewhiskey or a Butterbeer and at times, an easy—

“One cup of tea, please.”

The sentence carries a lilt much too familiar, playful and teasing, an amused smile concealed somewhere in between and the request just as odd. You don’t have to look up to know who it is, and he can tell. He revels in it, his undeterred smugness radiating off of him and spilling over the counter he’s currently leaning against.

“This is a pub, Rosier, if you haven’t already noticed.” You don’t look up, unwilling to give him the satisfaction. Though, you can’t do much to hide the slight quiver of your hand as you pour out some Firewhiskey and his small, exhaling laugh tells you he has taken note of it immediately, as subtle as it may have been.

“I have noticed actually,” you can feel his eyes linger on your hands before darting to your face. “Unfortunately.” He adds, with a furrow in his eyebrows and a slight grimace as he looks around the pub with poorly concealed distaste.

It’s much too late now – your peripherals have betrayed you – and your self-control has long since run dry. You catch his gaze as it settles back on you.

The first thing you take note of is how different he looks since you saw him last — the blonde hair has lost a fraction of its luster, though still gorgeous, and his eyes have circles beneath them, telling of his exhaustion he does well to hide otherwise. His shirt is unironed, though tucked into his trousers neatly, and his jacket is thrown haphazardly over his shoulder. It’s oxymoronic in the most infuriating way possible and so Evan.

His grin, you notice with weary eyes though, remains the same, unwavering: blinding, almost to a fault, its shine reflected in his eyes as he takes you in. It’s a feeling long-forgotten, to be looked at this way by him.

“You’re still as pretentious as ever, I see,” you say with a raise of your eyebrows. “Did you miss high tea this evening with your elitist friends? Or have they finally come to their senses and declared your company entirely dreadful?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, as if lost in thought, his eyes drinking you in slowly. “Oh, how I missed that sharp tongue of yours.”

Your face grows hot at the implication. “You’re still just as insufferable.”

He only grins as he leans forward, eyes sincere but mouth plainly amused. “And you're still just as beautiful.”

You ignore the praise with a pointed determination he doesn’t quite like. He opens his mouth to say something again when a loud cheer erupts in the background and the simultaneous turn of heads is almost automatic, identical grimaces on both of your faces. An old wizard has fallen onto his arse in the most untoward manner in his drunken stupor. You blink as if it’s the tamest thing to have happened tonight and Evan shakes his head in what can only be described as disbelief.

“Charming place you’ve got here,” he notes, tone thick with sarcasm and a hint of condescension that you’ve come to expect from him. You can see his arms resting on the counter now, as he sits, his jacket thrown somewhere behind him. The white fabric is rich but revealing as the warm glow of the overhead light shines on the skin underneath. You divert your gaze.

“Isn’t it?”

“Though it’d be infinitely more so if you could, indeed, fix me a cup of tea, love.”

You don’t spare him another glance as you uselessly dry off a cup. “I’m sure your house elves will do well to put aside their contempt for you for a few minutes and fix you a cup or two, if you were to ask nicely enough, love.”

“I prefer asking pretty barkeeps for my cups of tea, thank you very much.”

“And I prefer denying such requests.”

He goes quiet finally, his ring-clad fingers drumming on the counter as he sits. He wears an infuriatingly perfect smile still – you don’t think he has stopped smiling since he’d stepped foot into the pub – and his eyes are holding yours, as if in silent challenge. After a moment, he speaks again.

“Edmund!” He calls to the other barkeep, covering the far end of the counter. He knows his name. You try to act unsurprised, though you’re anything but. “A cup of tea, please?”

“Coming up, Rosier!”

He turns back to you, smirk smug and victorious. You grip your washcloth tighter.

“You’ve been here before,” you remark plainly.

“Very perceptive.” He rests his face on his hand, propped up on the counter and smiles wryly.

“And yet, you’re back,” you mock, a mirthless hint of a smile on your face. “You must’ve found the establishment thoroughly enriching.”

He pretends to be deep in thought. “Well, I could never quite find what I’d been looking for all the times previous.”

“Cups of tea? Yes, I’m sure they’re hard to find in London.”

“Pretty barkeeps, actually. You don’t work many shifts here.”

You scoff, though your cheeks burn at the astute observation. “Edmund isn’t pretty enough for you?”

“Oh, he is,” His gaze only shifts when a cup of tea floats to him and he winks at Edmund in thanks. What an obnoxious gesture, you think. “But he’s not nearly as difficult.”

“And you prefer them to be difficult?”

“I prefer them to be you.” His sincerity catches you off guard, unsure eyes snapping to him at once. He hides his amusement in the cup as he sips slowly. “So yes, excruciatingly difficult.”

You hum, as if in agreement. The poorly lit interior of the pub doesn’t possess the capability to dull the shine of his eyes, or conceal his handsome – albeit tired – face, as much you would’ve liked it to. There’s a new scar, you notice, that he’s acquired just above his lip and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking useless questions you would regret verbalizing later.

“You look well,” his eyes follow you as you work, warm and curious. You don’t hate the feeling as much as you should and you try not to bask in the feeling – as short-lived as it may be.

You huff, now blatantly aware of the stains on your work blouse, your unkempt hair that is a stark contrast to his perfect locks. “I wish I could say the same for you.” Even posed as a jest, the statement sounds ridiculous uttered to someone like Evan.

He decides to indulge you. “No? Less handsome than before?”

“There wasn’t much to start with, so I must evaluate accordingly.”

A chuckle that feels too much like a reward. “Cruel, as ever.”

“Honest, more like.”

“I’m something of a masochist, I suppose,” he stretches, leisurely and cat-like. “I quite missed your jabs in Paris.” It’s a plain-enough admission. He missed your jabs, not you. You remind yourself of that over and over. He’s clamant in that way, lazes in attention from wherever he can get it. You’re not special. You never were.

Paris, though. You savor the bit of detail he has provided you on his endeavors, something he has otherwise elected to keep quite secret ever since graduation. There isn’t much you know about him anymore – who he spends his time with, what he’s up to. Though, there are rumors. It’s a time of war, after all, and he’s a Rosier.

“I’m sure you didn’t miss them for long. I hear the French are revered for their candor. Did they also call you a bumbling idiot every chance they got?”

He traces the rim of his teacup slowly, as if he’s coyly willing you to take note of the movement. You oblige involuntarily. He’s satisfied with the quick flicker of your eyes enough to give you a smirk. “Not quite. ‘Devilishly handsome’ were the exact words used, I believe.”

An amused exhale from your lips. “Your mother may be French, Rosier, but she doesn’t count.”

He laughs and its sound hangs in the air around you in a way that makes it hard to breathe. “You know, I’m not sure you’re very good at the ‘customer service’ bit. Are you this rude to all your customers?”

“Just the unwelcome ones.”

He hums. “You’d quite like Paris, I think.” He changes the subject with all the nonchalance of flipping a page of a book you haven’t quite finished reading but have become bored of nonetheless. You note the redirection with interest.

“What were you up to in Paris?” You oblige as your curiosity trumps your ego. You’re aware of the staunchness of the question, of the sudden heaviness that now hangs around the two of you in the pub.

“Familial obligations, and the like.” Automatic, much too rehearsed for your liking, but you can tell it’s true, at least in part. He has a tendency to look away when he lies and so far, his eyes have been set stiflingly steady – on you. He rubs his forearm absent-mindedly. “I didn’t want to come back.”

You bite back a bitter laugh. “Why did you?”

He looks down into his cup. “The tea isn’t the same.”

“I’m sure.”

“And I searched far and wide, believe me.”

“A valiant effort.” You scrub the grimy countertops absent-mindedly.

“Oh, I’m anything but.” He sips his tea again. Offhandedly, he adds, “If I had been more brave, perhaps I would’ve stopped your engagement sooner.”

Your eyes snap to him at once but he remains indifferent, glancing into his cup and reading the leaves as if he’s in Divination. You try to hide your surprise but you can’t do much to mask the break of your voice. “What– How did you–”

He finally meets your eyes with a smile that borders on bitter. “Congratulations, by the way,” he says slowly as if he’s letting the words mull in his mouth and turn sour. Another cheer erupts in the background, a stark contrast to the absence of a celebratory cadence in his own voice.

You breathe shakily. “Is that why you’re here then? To bend me to your many whims and tell me not to marry him?” The drumming of your heart is steady and disturbing.

“Would you like me to?”

Yes. “No.”

“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?” He asks, as if the question had been lodged inside his throat the whole night and has finally broken free. You avert your gaze. He’d always had a knack for asking questions you couldn’t quite voice the answers to.

“I think you should go,” you breathe.

“Is this to spite me?”

“To spite you? Who do you —” Anger envelops you. Only he would assume that your marital arrangements were solely to spite him.

“Do you love him?” He presses, abandoning the feigned nonchalance and speaking with an urgency that unsettles you.

“Leave.”

“Do you?”

A pause you’re not sure how to fill. “What does it matter?”

His eyes search yours and seem to find the very thing you’ve worked so hard to conceal. His gaze softens. “Don’t marry him.”

The soft admonition knocks the air out of your lungs. You only gape at him, hurt and angry at his audacity. “How dare you?”

He stays still, unspeaking and unmoving, as if he, himself, knows he has stepped over a line. He purses his lips to stop himself from saying anything else. Pushing the empty tea cup aside, he stands and dons his coat. “I’m going to go,” he says quietly.

You grit your teeth further. You should’ve expected this by now. Of course, he was going to leave after completely derailing your life. “What–”

“I’ve said what I needed to say,” he speaks again, shoving his hands into his pockets like a petulant child. “Don’t marry him.” He repeats, expression serious and solemn for the first time tonight.

You open your mouth to reprimand him but he interrupts you.

“Please,” he exhales and his plea is almost too quiet to hear amidst the bar chatter. But you hear it all the same and something twists in your chest at the uncharacteristic ask. He turns to go before you can say anything else. You can only watch him leave, gripping the counter until your knuckles turn white.

Only after he leaves the pub do you see a napkin perched on the counter, where he sat just moments ago.

9568 Highfield Road, London, W69 1QB

In the case that you change your mind.

Love, E.

The napkin crumples in your hand with unprecedented force.

You deliberate.

With a huff, you shove it in your pocket.

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 11 months ago

Text

Finding Peace Pt.4: Waves (Spike x YN)

Request: Nope. Part 4 of the Multi Fic.

TW: Mentions of blood and phsyical harm.

Summary: Spike is worried for the cursed slayer. He wonders if she can manage in her own.

Word Count: 2.2k

Previous | Next

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

Another night of hunting. Another night covered in blood. You walked half contorted body down the street, in pain after your battle. Your body was regenerating but it was still painful. How many more nights of this hell before you found peace. You would cry, like you did in the past, but there's no point. It brings no relief. So, you just hobbled home in the dead of night hoping no civilian would catch you. Cause what a horrifying sight you are.

Smoke litters the air as Spike exhales. Another night of helping the slayer. Another night of getting his ass handed to him for getting cocky around her. He wishes he wasn't infatuated with her, but life just happens. A quick thought interrupted his line of thought. The cursed slayer. He hasn't seen her in 3 days. He misses her. Now that she doesn't work at The Magic Shop it’s harder to see her. Maybe every other day he'll see her in the cemetery with Buffy or alone but never on a consistent schedule. He knows where she lives... he could visit her. He would blush if he had any blood to produce a blush. How silly is he being? Him, chasing after the cursed slayer. Ridiculous.

He trails off from the cemetery, still debating on whether to visit y/n or not. What reasons would he have for stopping by? The waltz! He offered her a dance! He stops in his tracks and shakes his head. He was being silly. No one that experienced and ancient would care to spend time with him. Even if they were friends. She was just being polite. He tried to reason with himself. He has never felt so much doubt over someone. With Buffy it was straight forward, stalk and wear her down. With y/n it’s so complicated. Like playing a game without rules.

His attention is caught by a trail of blood on the ground. He's on high alert. He follows the zig zag of blood down the street. This is the street to y/n's house. He walks faster, afraid for her safety. As he turns the corner he sees her, a macabre sight of body parts twisted and torn. He holds his breath as if he had any. He rushes to her side.

You become aware of a presence behind you. You're tired and badly hurt, but if a fight has to happen then you are ready.

"Y/n!" Spike yells after you.

The wave of relief that washes over you is insurmountable.

You barely turn as he runs up to you, worry etched on his face.

"Despite my current presentation, I'm fine." You interject before he can get a word out.

"You look like death."

"I'll survive." You try to hobble past him.

Without any warning he scoops you up into his arms, your face against his chest. You feel a blush coming on. He starts at a steady and careful pace back to your house.

"I can walk." You argue.

"Barely" he says.

You sigh. You would never admit it but you like how it feels to be taken care of. You breath in the scent of dirt and leather that clings to Spike. You stay quiet the rest of the way, contemplating how much different your life would be if you had Spike around. You wave the idea away. He belongs to Buffy and you belong to the curse, simple as that.

You reach your house, still in his arms. He gently puts you down on your feet. You're surprised by his gentle nature.

"Thank you." You smile, trying to steady yourself.

"What are friends for." He pauses for a second. "You owe me a dance." He felt like a putz bringing it up in her current state. Why did his brain short circuit around her?

You chuckle. "I haven't forgotten. Maybe next time." You turn away and walk inside your house.

As soon as the door closes, he hangs his head. What an idiot he's being! Asking for a dance when she can barely move. Might as well wear a sign that says touch starved. He walks back home, hands in his pocket, angry and embarrassed. He can still smell her blood on him, making him hungry.

The next day he was itching to see y/n again. He had to wait at the cemetery, maybe? Walk up her street? He didn't know where to locate her, simply that he had to make sure she was okay. After a while he gives up and starts to walking by y/n's street to find her sitting by the curve. She looks in pain.

He rushed to your side. You have a broken leg. You thought it would be a good idea to limp back home after your early but painful altercation with a demon. Spike crouches down to your level.

"What do we got here?" He says in a playful tone trying to hide his concern.

"You should see the other guy."

Spike frowned at seeing the damage. "Can you get up?"

"Yes. And no, you're not carrying me today. I've been taking care if myself for years and I can do it now."

"A bloody terrible job you've been doin’."

"Rude" you get up and start limping again.

Before you can get your footing Spike sweeps you up again. You protest but he hushes you. Again, incredulous. This man is sweet but is getting on your last nerve.

"Sorry love, can't let you waste away." He looks down at you. He notices how fragile you are in his arms, how good you feel so close to him, and how much power he has over you in this one moment.

He quickly looks up, trying to avoid your prodding gaze. "Tell me what happened."

"Simple. Demon had a club. I got cocky. He swung, broke my leg and I swung my sword and cut his head."

"Big fan of decapitation, I see."

"All in a night's work." You grinned.

"You say you’ve always taken care o’ yourself. Does every night end like this?"

"Most nights, yes. It’s just me and the big bad demons. I do get careless cause of the whole immortality bit."

He nods. You both reach your house. He gently puts you down on your feet. You sway and he catches you. You look up, your faces mere inches from each other. You take the time to admire his chiseled face, his sharp cheek bones and his blue eyes. All the while he enjoys getting reacquainted with the valley of your lips, and the deep hue of color in your eyes. He wonders how soft your lips really are. He pulls back at the thought and you almost stumble onto him. He steadies you, from a distance. You laugh at his reaction.

"Once again, thank you. You always seem to show up when I need you, and I appreciate that."

He nods, contemplating his next move. You turn to open, enter and close your door. However, Spike puts his foot on the door.

"I don't want you goin' out without me."

"Excuse me?" You're incredulous.

"Every time you're alone you get hurt. We can't have that now, can we? So, you're with me from now on."

You stand there speechless. Before you can retort he ends the conversation with "I'll pick you up at 9." And walks away.

The following night you wait for him, amused at how the night will turn out. A knock is heard in the distance. You open it to see Spike, your chaperone of the night.

"Good evening. Where to m'lady?"

You laugh at his antics. As you walk towards the woods you explain to Spike your goal for the night. To take down set of twin demons that have been trying to lure children to eat them. Spike is attentive and energized. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to prove to you that he was no sniveling child vampire. Just because there is an 800 year difference between the two of you, it doesn't mean that he's useless.

You both make it to an empty playground.

"Here?" Spike asks.

"Here." You confirm.

So, you sit and wait. Spike steals glances at you, hoping to catch your eye. He has never felt so small and shy. You turn to look at him and smile "nervous, baby boy?"

He is taken aback, speechless. Baby boy! You had some gal! He didn't know if to fight back or let you dominate him. Neither action came to fruition due to two big demons coming into view.

You stand ready, "show time, baby boy." You run up at the twin demons.

Spike needs a minute to rewire his thoughts and calm his feelings. Once reconnected he runs after you to back you up.

You both go on a head on collision with the demons. Spike is surprised at your direct approach. He can tell you're too focused on the win and not on your safety. He swoops in to play defense and keep you safe. While you work on slashing and punching, Spike works on blocking and moving you out of the way. You both work as a unit, fearless of what’s to come. Your bodies speak a language that only you two understand.

The demons are tired and bruised but you guys aren't done. Spike calls your name as he pushes one of the demons your way. Your sword is ready, and you stab into him with ease. Spike misses his cue as you call to him and the other demon attacks him, hurting him. You call to him one last time throwing your sword his way. He catches it with ease and stabs the demon multiple times. You're both triumphant.

You walk up to Spike to assess the damage.

"It's bleeding but not terrible" Spike states.

You nod and sling his arm around your shoulders. You both limp towards your house.

"Thank you. You were amazing." You compliment him.

He smirks, "You weren't half bad."

"If you hadn't been there those demons would've taken me out."

"I know" Spike smiles his shit eating grin.

You stop at your porch and Spike moves away from you. "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow night" and he starts walking away.

"Wait, I'm gonna patch you up." You stop him from moving farther away from you.

He freezes. "Love, I'd have to come in..." He trails off at the prospect of being in your home.

You chuckle. "I know." You stand inside your house. "Go ahead, ask."

He couldn't believe it. Dead heart be still. "Can I come in?"

"Nah."

Spike's jaw drops. Ridiculous. He feels like storming off until he hears you laugh which makes his blood boil.

"Wait! Don't leave. I’m sorry. Ask again. Please." You say trying to get your laughter under control.

He asks again, and you say yes. And he feels all the air, if any, leave his body. He was elated and giddy.

He saunters into your home as if it was his own. He takes in the space, the furniture.

"Take a seat, I'll be right back" you point to your couch.

You bring him a cup of water and a med kit. He is humbled at your gesture. So simple yet so loving.

"Take off your shirt." You say as you look through your med kit.

"Buy me a drink first, love" he chuckles and complies.

You make an annoyed face, but it’s quickly washed off at the sight at his body. He was breathtaking. Dips and valleys hidden under hard lines of muscles. You remind yourself to breathe. You refocus and go to tending his wound. You are careful, loving as your work on him.

He admires your gentle hands, So carefully caring for him. Buffy would never. Yet y/n will always. Always. He snaps back from his reverie as you apply the anti-septic to his wound. It stings.

"All new!" You state looking at your handy work.

"Thank you..." he mumbles as he pulls his shirt down.

"My pleasure. I mean, it was a pleasure to help. I mean not that I take pleasure in seeing your hurt. I mean - " Spike places his pointer and middle finger to your lips. A firm but gentle gesture.

"I know what you mean." He smiles, a genuine one. "I have to go now. The sun is rising."

As he turns away you pull at his duster. "Stay."

He turns slowly, in surprise of what he just heard.

"Stay" you repeat. "You can stay on the couch. It’s a pull out."

He makes eye contact. He steps closer, purposefully entering your personal space. One hand distracts itself by playing with your hair. The other ghosted over yours at your side.

He knew, in that moment, that you would look out for him no matter what. The woman he got to know before he knew her as the cursed slayer was still there. The attentive eyes, the smart mouth and the loving heart. All that he needed. He refuses to let himself drown in this feeling. Not yet. He needed time before he let himself swim in your waves of love. But there was no harm in taking a dip, just for tonight.

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