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slytherinshua · 8 months ago

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SLEEP IS THE BEST MEDICINE

genre. fluff. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick (sore throat/coughing). mention of food. pairing. seungkwan x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. no. a/n. for @wheeboo who is sick and so i had to write her a sickfic smh (i love her sm pls feel better soon lovely)

As soon as you heard the buzzing of your phone breaking through your attempt at sleep, panic filled your body. One glance at the caller ID confirmed everything, and you shut your eyes tightly, trying to muster up all your energy and a half-decent attempt to get your normal voice back before you answered.

Of course your boyfriend would be calling to check where you were. You were supposed to meet him 30 minutes ago. Not only had you forgotten all about the date you had planned days in advance, but you had also managed to get sick since the last time you had seen him (and forgot to tell him about it).

Seungkwan’s voice sounded cheery as soon as you picked up the call, “Hey, love! Is the traffic bad or something? I’m at the restaurant— people keep giving me looks cause they think I’m dining alone.”

A small smile crept onto your face as you imagined the scene, guessing that your boyfriend probably wore a pout on his face just by the tone of his voice.

“About that… I kind of forgot?” You started to explain, your voice coming out in a painful rasp even as you tried your best to clear your throat.

“Are you sick? You sound awful.” Seungkwan asked hurriedly, completely ignoring what you were trying to tell him. You tried to think of a good excuse to give him, but the silence in response to his question already gave Seungkwan his answer.

“You are sick, aren’t you! Why didn’t you tell me?” He scolded lightly. You could imagine vividly the way he usually pursed his lips in disapproval, and a sigh left your lips. You had really been looking forward to the date, now that you remembered that it had been scheduled. It had been weeks since you spent more than an hour or so with Seungkwan, and you missed him so badly.

“I’m sorry, Kwannie. Can we reschedule it? I still want to go with you.” You said softly, clearing your throat between sentences in failed attempts to stop the uncomfortable scratching every time you talked.

A dinner date with your boyfriend at a seaside restaurant was exactly what you wished you could be doing right now. If only you hadn’t gotten sick at exactly the wrong time, you would be enjoying a fancy meal across from him right about now. You knew the night would have led to a walk along the shoreline under the moonlight— something that you never got tired of. And it would have been chilly enough for you to justify stealing Seungkwan’s jacket (you really just loved it because it smelled like him, and was so perfectly oversized on you).

“Of course. That’s not even a question.” He replied with a tsk, wondering why you would even have to ask that with such a regretful tone. The night certainly wasn’t ruined for him, even though he had been looking forward to the date as much as you had. “I’ll come over. We can still eat dinner together, okay?”

Your heart melted at his suggestion, though you were tentative to accept immediately. Logically, you should probably stay away from him just in case he got sick too; but you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and sleep. You opened your mouth to start protesting, your mind finally winning over your heart, but then you remembered how stubborn your boyfriend was. Even if you forbid him from coming in your front door, he would probably scale the side of the house and sneak in through one of the windows just to get to you.

With a cough, and a small ‘okay’, you hung up the call and let your head hit the pillow again. You swiped over to your phone camera, frowning when you saw how you looked. Seungkwan would probably arrive still in his date outfit, looking as charming and handsome as he always did— and here you were looking like a complete mess under your blankets. From your tired eyes to your tangled hair to the patches of skin that were breaking out on your face due to the cold weather, you would look almost disgraceful next to your boyfriend.

You itched to get up and put on makeup before he arrived, but you knew he would notice right away and be absolutely appalled. You were too tired to put in the effort either way. It was silly for you to still care so much about how you looked even after dating Seungkwan for years, but you still wanted to look pretty for him. You forced your mind to give yourself a little grace about your appearance. It was absurd to expect to look your best while sick.

Seungkwan arrived sooner than you expected, announcing his presence at the door in a sing-song voice. You croaked out that you were in your bedroom as loudly as you could with how painful it was to talk and hoped that he was able to hear you. He knocked on your door a mere second later, opening it slowly. He had a goofy loving smile on his face and a plastic bag in one hand. You couldn’t help but mirror his smile as soon as you saw him.

“I got some soup on the way. It’s supposed to help with colds.” He explained eagerly, setting down the bag on your bedside table and taking out a large container of soup. He opened up the lid to let it start cooling before turning his attention back to you.

“My sweet girl. I only left you for 1 week and you still managed to get sick in that time.” He teased fondly, sitting on the edge of your bed where he could easily reach to tuck away the hair that fell over your forehead. You only frowned in response, trying to rest your voice as much as possible. It was easier to communicate non-verbally when your boyfriend could see all your facial expressions.

“Sit up a bit so I can feed you.” Seungkwan instructed with a smile, grabbing the container of soup and spooning out some to blow on.

“I can feed myself.” You whispered.

Seungkwan locked eyes with you, “I know, but let me feed you anyway. You never let me do anything for you.” You scoffed lightly at his response, although it made your chest buzz with warmth. It was clear that the opportunity to pamper and take care of you excited Seungkwan. Knowing your boyfriend, it didn’t surprise you.

The soup was soothing on your sore throat, and just the fact that Seungkwan was right there feeding you each spoonful gave you the energy to actually finish the bowl. He told you about his past week as he fed you, making sure that each bit of soup was sufficiently cooled before it reached your mouth. He gave you a proud smile once you had eaten the last bit of soup, despite how unimpressive the feat had been— certainly not one deserving of such praise.

“You look tired.” Seungkwan commented softly, setting aside the empty container of soup back on the table and adjusting your blanket to cover your entire body again. You hummed a little in response, already letting your eyes flutter closed. As soon as you felt the tiniest bit of motion, though, your hand flew out to clutch your boyfriend’s shirt tightly.

“Don’t leave.” You pleaded, earning light laughter from your boyfriend.

“I was only going to go wash out the container, but I guess that’ll have to wait.” He already knew exactly what you wanted just by your eyes. He wasn’t one to deny you anything when you were already feeling under the weather, so he shifted over to the other side of the bed where there was space for him to lie down and draped an arm around your body.

“If I get sick from this, you have to take care of me, too, okay?”

“Okay.” You closed your eyes again, shifting closer to him half a centimetre at a time in an attempt to be discreet. Of course, he noticed right away and pulled you closer before you were even halfway done closing the distance.

“Sleep. Sleep is the best medicine.” He urged you quietly. It was already a million times easier to fall asleep next to him, but as soon as he started humming old lullabies, the task became almost effortless. You were curled up in his chest before too long; the sound of his singing making its way into your dreams.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months ago

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HH cast crushing on the reader 2/3

Forgot to mention in the previous post alastor will be excluded for this prompt. "But admin you write for him-" I tend to approach his writing with queer platonic ideas and while I do think this prompt can still work with that, idk how to put it into words

Characters: Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Emily, Velvette, Rosie

Notes: reader is GN, mostly focuses on canon characters, if your character isnt here check the other parts unless I dont write for them

CWs: none

LUCIFER

On one hand he wants to be with you. But on the other I feel he is still a bit hung up on Lilith. It's wouldn't be fair to you to pursue someone else when there's already someone else in his heart. He flipflops between approaching you and shutting you off. It's going to take a lot and you might have to ask him if there's something going on or if you did something wrong. He's crushed that you think you did something wrong. Baby steps with him, give him some time and the two of you could possibly make something. He finds himself sitting at his workspace making art (ducks) based off of you.

ADAM

Oh he is so open about it and it's kind of obnoxious. Well.. open isn't the right word. He's very up front with making sure you know that he thinks you're... desirable to put it lightly. But to actually be soft and vulnerable and say he wants to be with you for more than just wanting to bang you? It's going to be like pulling teeth to get an actual confession from him. He teases you a lot more, and makes comments about you and he leans into it if you're receptive. Just know that if you catch feelings first and he notices, he's going to hold it over your head and use it as ammo.

LUTE

Similar to Vaggie in the previous part, she's going to get... closed off. Unlike Vaggie, she's going to totally close herself off from you and try to bury herself deeper into her heavenly duties. She's hardwired and trained to devote herself to Heaven and she believes she doesn't have time for you. She almost feels like it's a betrayal to have these feelings in the first place. She won't confess, at least not out of looking for a relationship. I can see her doing it as a way to release her feelings in hopes that saying it out loud will somehow get rid of them. It's a little sad when you sit and think about it, but I do think with enough time and patience you two might be able to build something.

EMILY

Very giddy and very quick to telling you how she feels. She takes time out of her day to check in on you, as well as giving you something she knows you like or something that reminded her of you. Noticeably happier around you and perks up at the mere mention of your name. She always has time for you, she makes room in her schedule for you. She's a lot like Charlie in regard to her being a bit overbearing and clingy, but she really does mean well with her intentions! Just let her know if she needs to scale it back!

VELVETTE

I can totally see Velvette being the type to hide her feelings and translate to something else. Bonus points if you're a rival of hers in the industry, all the more reason for her to try to twist her feelings. I guess in a way you can call her a tsundere. Even through the meaner things she says, there are some teasing words slipped in here and there in your interactions that admittedly leave you feeling a little conflicted and confused. If you shut it down and be firm you miiiight get her to cut the act, but it is not a guarantee because she's grown to like the game.

ROSIE

She doesn't throw herself at your feet, she has some dignity. She is polite and kind towards you, though... but just because you've got her attention doesn't mean she's going to date you just yet. Think of it as her giving you a chance to show yourself off to her. She sometimes does small favors for you in town, even giving you some special privileges thanks to her status as an overlord. Waits for you to confess, if you're showing your signals as well. There will be subtle hints, though, even if she's not outright flirting with you... most of the time... she can't resist sometimes, even with the above stated. Really it just depends on the circumstance and how you are as a person.

#hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #adam x reader #hazbin adam x reader #lute x reader #emily x reader #hazbin emily x reader #velvette x reader #rosie x reader #hazbin rosie x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

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commandershepardvasfuckit · 8 months ago

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How Halsin’s “once you get to my age” conversation not long after he finally recruited as a party member SHOULD have gone if you were an elf and could call him out on not being old.

Because as a drow my Tav should be allowed to call him out and tease him over it

(My Tav, but written pretty generically and without any gender indicators for Tav so knock yourself out)

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“You didn’t answer the part about lovers” you say as you fold your arms. Halsin held a certain level of fascination to you. Maybe it was his sheer size, maybe it was his confidence, or his willingness to just listen. Maybe it was because you truly could not get a read on him.

He had been frustratingly dodging most questions about himself until now, softly smiling and telling you ‘there will be time for questions later. I must keep my focus on the task at hand’ and now somehow managed to tell you an incredible amount and nothing at all at the same time.

“I’m 350 years old. Of course there have been lovers. Just because I love nature doesn’t mean I’m betrothed to it. Though sometimes, nature needs reminding…” he trailed off.

Another redirection, talks of the past while not acknowledging that the question was about the current and offering an interesting tidbit instead. You recognized what he was trying to do, but unfortunately his smirk while speaking about nature alluded to an all too good to pass up story.

“Hold on- nature needs reminding of what exactly?” you ask.

“Well, I didn’t pick this scar up in battle. I was in wildshape, only I forgot it was the season when bears are particularly social. A she-bear claimed me as her own- and did not appreciate being spurned” he said.

Less riveting than you hoped, but still interesting. And certainly not enough to convince you to drop the question.

“Don’t leave me hanging- is there someone in your life right now?” Simple. Direct. Surely no way to dodge it again.

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid” he answers. There’s a small drop in his voice, not sorrow, but, disappointment?“Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve”.

It was not quite the answer you were expecting. A clear answer this time, but something in the way his words hung in the air felt off.

You look over his face, searching for some glimmer of information but are met with the same relaxed but stoic expression he used when he was done talking about a subject.

“Tell me something about yourself that I wouldn’t even think to ask” you change the subject, hoping to find any bit of interesting information from him.

“Hmm, I suppose you wouldn’t be shocked to learn I love animals and nature? I know, I know; well-trodden territory. Well, let’s see… I whittle in my spare time, and I’ve something of a sweet tooth- though everyone’s very amused when I say I like honey”.

A smile plays on your lips, you genuinely could not tell if he was avoiding saying much and choosing to give you obvious answers purposefully or not.

“Whittling? What do you make?” you ask, fishing for anything you could.

“Ornaments, utensils- and ducks. I like ducks”.

New information gained and yet nothing new truly learned.

“So you turn into a bear and you like honey?” you repeat back to him, “A little on the nose”.

“I like what I like. Once you get to my age you realize there’s little point in denying yourself, so long as other’s aren’t affected” Halsin replies.

“Your age?” you laugh, in the grand scheme of elven lives Halsin was young still, only a few decades older than yourself despite speaking as if he was at least 800. “And how old do you think I am?”

Halsin flashed a quick smile, brief but betraying a lot of emotion. The sort guilty smile you offer when you’re caught.

“My apologies. I don’t encounter too many full elves these days” his face relaxes, not his usual careful composure, but a true relaxation. “No, I supposed 350 is young still, and sometimes I need reminding of that too. You get used to seeing life on the scale that the others see. People treat you as old and you start to believe it, or at least you let them make their assumptions about you”.

“So ‘old, wise Halsin’ is an act?” you tease.

“I am wise!” he laughs, a truly deep laugh that rumbled from his chest. A laugh that spreads into a sense of warmth within you. “If I wasn’t then you wouldn’t have come to my grove seeking my knowledge and skills!”

“I was told to seek out the old, wise archdruid of the the grove and imagine my surprise seeing an elf, only decades older than myself acting as if he was as least twice his age!” You laughed back, unable to keep his laughter from spreading to you. “Though I suppose I can keep quiet and let you continue this front, if you can keep up with me, old man, because I very much so am still young” you tease.

“You’ll find I’m more than able to keep up with anything you’ve got, don’t let me fool you into thinking my size is just for show. I think you’ll find I’m more than capable of going all day and night” the tone that crept into his voice let you know that he very much knew why you were asking if he currently had a lover earlier.

#bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav

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tremendum · 2 years ago

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fever

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 7.5k summary: but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine. his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with. warnings: SMUT. dubcon (sex pollen), age gap (not specified), use of the word ‘girl’, friends(ish) to lovers, canon-typical mentions of violence, needles/getting pricked by a plant, descriptions of canon-typical injuries, unprotected PiV sex, kinda rough, creampie, light cumplay, oral (f and m recieving), a fair amount of begging, dacryphilia, size kink, overstimulation, voyeur Joel if you squint just for a sec, facefucking, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, some spanking, choking, reader gets slapped on the cheek like once, dom!joel miller, spit kink, fingering, dirty talk/slight degradation if you squint, light praise, this is just basically porn with no plot, they’ve got feelings for each other but they’re in denial, ellie is in this in the beginning but doesn’t hear them thank GOD, notes: this is my first work for Joel and though I never finished the first game, the release of the TV series inspired me bc i am a SLU T for pedro lmao. this is terribly unedited because I just forgot i took edibles after i smoked and cranked this out in an hour and a half so sorry if it’s choppy or a bit ooc for joel. ALSO IF IM MISSING WARNINGS PLS MESSAGE ME

★

"whose brilliant idea was this?"

you say it from behind Joel, the echo of your boots splashing through the tunnel as you look around you, your eyes sneaking to observe the width of his shoulders, the stretch of his shirt over the muscles.

Joel can't stop the twist of his lips as he grumbles back at you, "yours." he mutters, rolling his eyes.

his flashlight cuts through the darkness in front of you two, scaling over the walls that grow slimy with repeated dew and rainwater, algae sprawling over the pipes and reaching its fingers down towards your shoes. he doesn't like being down here, it's too quiet, damp, dark. perfect for cordyceps to grow.

you let out a soft, amused hum at his words that coaxes a bubble of irritation through Joel - you'd always been stubborn, from the day he'd first laid eyes on you; a young thing at the time, baring teeth you thought were sharp but really just looked like a little doe snapping its jaw at him.

it's been long enough with you around now that Joel knows you better than he's willing to admit, and maybe also knows himself than he would ever say out loud - because you're still that stubborn fireball of a woman and he's still the tired old man who you find amusing to tease. and he likes it, deep deep down.

"yeah, maybe just letting it go was the better option." you muse from behind him, voice still somehow dripping like honey though the sloshing of the sewer provided nothing but unpleasantries for the group of you. he turns to spare a glare at you; you were already smirking at him. setting him up, then lying in wait.

a damn minx.

he sighs, looking away: sure, he wants you, of course he does - you were spry, beautiful, intelligent, and resourceful. but you were stubborn, and butted heads with him more than rams did in mating season. still, there'd been too many lingering glances, suggestive phrases, and gentle caresses for it to be a coincidence. he could tell that when you watched him split wood or help teach you to shoot a gun that you were probably soaked through your panties, and that made him hard as a rock when he allowed himself to think about it once in a blue moon.

but that doesn't matter, because in a world that wasn't like this one - without the danger, pain, the necessities to survive - a girl like you would never bat a fucking eye at a man like him.

and he's got more important things to think about than how tight you'd feel around his cock, how well you'd take his orders with his hand around your throat.

but your words not only fall to his ears - from where Ellie hangs upside down from the storm drain, she snorts, "you spent that whole time back there arguing with him just to decide he was right?" she boasts. at this, you grab her arm, pretending to pull her down from above your head and into the storm drain with you and Joel. a splashing noise and a squeal echoes through the tunnel as your boots slosh; Joel turns back with irritation, about to snap at the two to keep quiet.

but you're grinning, eyes reaching his from where you stand, covered in storm drain water. Ellie's flipped upside-down, hanging from the ceiling with a grin of amusement, her arm slack in your grip.

your shirt is wet, slick against your plush skin around your stomach and breasts, your hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead and neck. slowly, you bend down to pick the axe out of the murky water, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you shake the water from its hilt. he has to tear his eyes away from the flash of the lacy underwear that peeks from the waistline of your jeans.

Joel's breathing is almost stutters - you’re a goddamn sight right now, and if the tightening in Joel's jeans meant anything, it's that he needed to look away.

"it doesn't matter. you got your axe, now we need to get out of here." he mutters, tired of letting you convince him to do asinine decisions like try and crawl into a storm drain to fetch the axe you'd accidentally dropped. your lips pull into a tight line and he ignores the twist of fire in his stomach at your gaze, the smirk as you try to conceal your laughter. it just irritates him even more.

he watches with sharp eyes as Ellie starts to pull you up and out of the drain; he's trained with a flashlight and his rifle pointed towards the depths beyond you, into the unknown area of the drain. your head is almost out of his sight when it happens: you twitch suddenly and let out a yelp, "fuck!" you hiss. Joel's rushing towards you, calling your name.

you groan, pulling yourself up with the aid of Ellie as you mutter, "'m fine Joel, something stung me."

stung you? he looks around, flashlight searching the area for any animal or insect or other threat - nothing. but when you're clear of the drain, obscured by the dilapidated road above his head, Joel hears Ellie let out an interested but disgusted noise. his gun goes first, then the flashlight. he pulls himself up and as he nearly breaches the light of the Earth, a sharp sting attaches to his thigh, coaxing a grunt of shock from his lips as he pulls himself fully out.

you're laying, soaked on the hot pavement, Ellie staring at you with wide eyes as you inspect your calf. there's a barb on it with spikes that look almost like a cactus of sorts, bright purple and speckled with yellow. Joel doesn't have to look down to see his own thigh impaled with the spokes of the same plant. he tilts his head back, hand scrubbing his face with a deep sigh. damn it.

"what is that?" Ellie asks, eyes wide as Joel quickly pulls out the plant from his flesh with the flannel he'd tied around his pack. "don't!" he chastises as your bare hands move towards the spoked on your calf, and your eyes soon shoot up to him. "did y'touch a plant down there? or anything?" he asks, trying to ensure this wasn't anything toxic or lethal, or god forbid, a mutation of the cordyceps.

but if it had been, there'd have been signs of it. pulsing, infecteds even - but this was a plant Joel has never seen before.

"obviously" you grunt, shooting him a glare, "I wouldn't fucking touch something growing if I didn't know it was safe." you snark. he knows you hate it when he treats you like a child - you've said as much to him before, and loudly - but he can't help the protectiveness he feels for you. your skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, "but it shot out barbs towards me. I wasn't even close to it, you saw me." you defend.

Joel's throat clenches, his chest swimming with a warm feeling as the tingling sensation on his thigh lingers far after he'd pulled the barb from his jeans. he needed to get that thing out of you, too. you watch him as he pulls it out of your leg swiftly, Ellie sitting back on her haunches as she watches.

"we should clean these out." Joel decides, standing up and grabbing his gun and discarded flashlight, sending a glare down to the axe that sits glinting in the sun. just what he needs, another thorn in his side. literally.

the walk back to the house was much less exciting for you as it had been before the little romp with Joel in the sewer. the sun is hot beating down on your backs, and your dampness just exacerbates the mustiness of the storm drain's water soaking into your skin.

your calf is starting to vibrate, almost - although your heart twists with worry, you eye Joel's back and he seems fairly normal. so, you keep going, ignoring the heat that starts to consume you. your head aches by the time you round your last corner to get back.

Ellie's in her own world, kicking a rock as the house nears your sights: you'd landed here early this morning, some people who knew Joel before had lived here: they were gone now.

but it had beds, water that could be heated, and a collection of weapons and supplies stocked higher than your head.

so as you settle your things into the living room, you smile, digging into your pack to fish out the scraps of soap you'd saved, enough for several washes each of you were liberal with it. "so, who gets it first?" you say with a grin, unable to contain the excitement in your voice at the prospect of getting clean. Ellie jumps up, grinning with glee.

"dibs on going last!" she whistles, pulling a dry stare from both Joel and you. she shrugs, "what, don't want to be yelled at for takin' my time." she grumbles, flopping down on the couch, sofa releasing a plume of dust.

you lift a brow, "there's a second tub down here, isn't there?" you ask. Joel nods, eyes flickering to Ellie, "then you can take the tub down here. but only use a bit of hot water." he chides.

she rolls her eyes as he points a stern finger her way, swiping a piece of the soap you'd held out to her as she hauls her bag behind her, "relax, old man." she mutters, shaking her head as she disappears, "I'll let it run cold before I get out."

your eyes fall on to Joel, who sighs, nodding to the upstairs bathroom. "you go." he says dismissively. you chew on your lip, trying to figure a way out of taking the first bath: you needed to inspect this sting first. "no, i can wait. 's fine." you shrug, the feverish heat on your body not helping yourself to focus.

his hands run to the back of his neck, massaging a spot; your eyes are glued to the muscles that ripple from the movement, the long fingers thick and rough from a lifetime of hard work. you shudder, arousal pooling at the apex of your thighs easily. you swallow, embarrassed - why were you having such an odd reaction to this plant? it was making you feel fuzzy, feverish; the only thing you can focus on is Joel.

he shakes his head, "nonsense. ladies first." he insists, not meeting your eyes. you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, his abnormal attempt at chivalry - you laugh a bit. he glares at you, but there's no heat.

"since when have you been one for chivalry, Joel?" you ask, shaking your head with a smirk. it's sweet, because despite the horror of reality, there were still times when that charming Southern Man that Joel probably once was peeks through the cold, hard exterior.

rare but not unheard of were the times he'd hold a door open, or say ma'am - but it seems that all that remains of his past is that damn smooth accent and the broken watch he keeps on his wrist at all times.

he rolls his eyes but says nothing. his face looks red, and you almost bring up the pulsing at the site of that plant's needle; instead, you bite your tongue. you need a moment to analyze it, alone - and to get your thoughts straight, to - to not think about him.

"you can take first, Joel. I prefer my baths lukewarm, anyways." you joke, a fleeting touch on his arm.

your hand burns when you pull away and his eyes catch yours as if he felt it too. he must decide to not protest anymore as he nearly stumbles his way upstairs, disappearing into the master bathroom, his hands shaky as they take your soap from your grasp on the way.

Joel knew something was wrong immediately. the more he'd stood there, debating with you about who gets to fucking clean themselves first, the more he saw you, in a tub, fingers caressing yourself; the more real it felt, to see you touch your hardened buds, play with your tits, to hear you moan his name gently.

but his body was hot. he felt a fever like nothing he'd ever felt before, his mind going fuzzy as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing his whole body from head to toe vigorously, as though whatever was happening would fade away if he'd just get clean.

the bath couldn't have been longer than seven minutes.

by the end of it, he was grunting into his shoulder to muffle the noise, his fist squeeing his cock tight as he fucks himself into it, the hot spurs of wanton need curling around his body, choking him. that god damned soap. it smelled like you.

he'd thrown it across the room, its pieces splintered across the ground as Joel bites back a groan of your name, the images of you, soft hands pumping him, slick mouth opening to take him inside- he cums over his chest in hot spurts, the guilt red and hot across his cheeks as the feeling snaps from his chest.

but the fever is still there when he blinks away the pleasured cloud of his orgasm.

and it's still there, burning hot like a snake of revenge in his body when he slams the door open, body still damp and quick to react to the fresh air of the upstairs bedroom.

he doesn't go back downstairs, not like this. not when the girl is down there, probably still in her own bath; he's still not sure what he's come down with, or if it could spread.

now, it’s your turn in the bathroom in the master bedroom - he'd beelined it for the office upstairs before calling for you and telling you it was your turn; he knew that something in him would snap if he were to see you while he was in this state.

but he should've gone back downstairs, because the moment he hears it, it's too late for him.

you're moaning.

it's almost clear as day; muffled through doors as you'd shut yourself from the rest of the house in the master bedroom, and Joel can't fucking unhear it.

he became painfully hard again mere minutes after his first orgasm and has been restraining himself for what can only have been the ten minutes you'd been bathing, but at the timbre of your voice, a cold shiver runs down his spine.

his eyes widen in acceptance. there must have been some sort of- poison, or aphrodisiac in that damn plant that you'd both been struck with.

"fuck." he groans, surprised as it comes out much more breathy than intended, his whole body shuddering as his brain gets even more swarmed with thoughts - you, spread for him, or on your knees, or laying on the table, his cock shoved down your throat-

he hits the wall, hard. his fist stings but it's nothing in comparison to the burning need he feels swirling in his gut and his legs carry him until he's knocking on the door to the master bedroom frantically.

he calls your name, and a weak gasp is the only response. he tries again, and then your muffled voice calls, "fuck, Joel, that plant-" you cut yourself off with what Joel can only imagine is a moan of pain and pleasure. his cock twitches and he thinks he may pass out. staggering over to the bannister, Joel calls out for Ellie. she stomps over to peak her head up towards him expectantly.

he's shaking, sweat already sheening over his whole body. he's sure he looks like hell as he grips the landing under white knuckles, "Ellie, we're sick." he groans, "stay downstairs."

she calls back up, joking that she’s going to leave the house; but she doesn't sound sincere. he barely registers her laughter before she shuts the door, closing herself off to explore the downstairs house without Joel or you to protect her. he's momentarily glad she's not suspicious, instead is relieved to have her own time to herself.

but his cock is so hard he thinks he may pass out again, and he can hear you gasping out his name from behind the door to the bedroom and bathroom.

the door to the bedroom shuts and echoes through the empty upstairs as he tears through, chest heaving. you're still in the bathroom, gasping as your moans echo through the chamber.

he calls your name as he slumps against the door frame to the bathroom, the desire coursing through his body as he shakes with the feverous affects from the plant's venom.

he can't think straight, "I can't come in." he says, shaking his head as his forehead rests against the cool wood. you wail from inside, "Joel, please, I need- I need you, please I need help." you whimper. he can practically see you, the pleading look on your face pathetic as your brows tangle together, eyes shut in frustration. he knows you're touching yourself, and it makes his cock twitch.

"I can't." he says sternly, knowing that if he is to come through that door, there may be no stopping himself. he can't let that happen, not like this. "I'll- I'll be good, just- I can't, nothing's working." you whimper.

"not like this, darlin'." he's grunting through his teeth, but he feels so much desire that it's painful, like he'll die. anger courses through his chest as you let out a drawn out moan, low and full of need even through the wall that separates you.

"fuck you." you groan, "I hate you, Joel, never let me fuckin' have anything," your voice is strangled, a shuddering moan leaving your lips that sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire being. his hand finds his aching cock, slowly trying to relieve the painful desire that shoots through him with need.

he glares through the wall, "yeah, well, fuck you too." he spits back, anger coursing through him at your bratty exclaim of irritation for him - the one who kept you safe, who let you do what you wanted - who followed you into goddamn sewer drains to find the shit that you’d lost.

"walking around, flaunting that fuckin' ass at me." his words fall from his lips before he can stop himself, the desire and haze pulling it out of him as he twists his wrist around himself. "do you know what you do to me?" he nearly growls, "every time you open that mouth it's some shit. always gotta have somethin' to say to me, huh? make me wanna shut you up."

your moan is nearly a sob this time; it's raw, full of desire, and Joel could just about cum from that noise alone. his neck heats up with the knowledge that his words pushed you even further; he always knew you'd be a dirty little thing.

but he nearly falls over as the door to the bathroom rips open, catching himself with one arm on the doorframe, his cock still in his fist. his eyes find you on the ground, fully naked, on your goddamn hands and knees for him.

his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head when you gasp, "Joel, we need to-" you swallow as though you were salivating at the sight of him above you, cock angry and flushed, "you have to fuck me, now."

he stares down at you, his whole entire body tremoring at the sight of you; your bare chest, nipples peaked at you suck in breaths, face flushed with desire and sweat, your own legs shaking terribly. your hands are glistening with your own juices. he lets out a moan.

"please," you try to get his attention again, squirming as though you're in just as much pain as he is, "please, just use me, I don't care, I want to taste you."

he shakes his head, "we-we aren't thinking straight... can't do this." he gasps, even his own words starting to sound absurd to himself. you shake your head actual tears welling up in your eyes, "I think about this all the time, Joel-" you moan, your hand slipping between your legs, the wet sounds sending streaks of desire through his body. “it’s not just the fucking plant, Joel, I need you.” you hum. his wrist hasn't stopped moving, he realizes, chasing that sweet fucking high as you stare at his cock with a wide, hungry glance, begging him to fuck you. he wonders if he’s just dreaming again.

"you know that I want this." you gasp out, tears nearly slipping from your lashline, "don't you?"

does he? how could you dare to ask that?

he groans, nodding, "shit, baby, shut the fuck up."

"you're a fucking asshole, Joel." you whine, "it hurts." you mutter, biting your lip with a ghost of a smile. that makes him snap. it hurts, and you're fucking enjoying it?

he grabs you roughly. the minute his skin touches yours it burns deliciously; he can't believe he had the control to not touch you this whole time. his moan is tandem with yours as his fingers thread through your hair, intending on lifting you to take you to the bed; your hands grip his thighs, though, and soon your hot, wet mouth finds the angry head of his cock.

you take him about halfway before you gag slightly and he slams his hand hard on the wall just above you; your eyes are fluttered shut, a tear squeezing out as your throat opens for him. he groans at the pleasure that courses through him, reaches his fingers, the nape of his neck. you're pulling on him desperately, and it makes him smirk down at you.

"what, you wan' me to fuck that pretty little mouth?" he mutters, heart thundering in his chest as his fingers shake with desire. you pull off him, gasping slightly for breath, your finger still touching yourself as you nod, a string of spit still connecting him to your lips, "yes." you say with a nod, falling back against the wall as he crowds over you.

he's not patient, not right now. he knows he could fuck your mouth until he was shooting his seed down your throat and you'd sit through it all with that pretty hair and grin and hell, you’d probably even thank him afterwards; but he doesn't have the time for that. he needs to be deep inside you, needs to be drowning in your cunt, needs to fuck you down into the mattress so hard you scream.

and you're desperate, clearly: you're two fingers deep, fucking yourself on your fingers as another tear trails down your cheek, breathless as you shift in near pain from need. he resists the urge to coo down at you, his thumb still swiping the tear from your cheek before he grabs you again, this time pulling you up and tugging you onto the bed.

you let out a moan of his name, your face flush with arousal as you spread your thighs open for him, watching with a pained expression as he pulls off his shirt and jeans, discarding his boxers as he goes. your eyes rake over him and you whimper, still not touching him until he gives you permission.

it makes him smirk, "for such a brat it's a wonder you're so obedient like this." he mutters, pulling your legs further open as he quickly stands with his legs against the edge of the bed, running his cock against your soaked, velvety cunt.

you whimper, jolting in pleasure as his head catches your sensitive, neglected nub and he smears his precum there, enthralled in the shapes your nails carve into his biceps as you gasp.

he can't pull his eyes away from your glistening center - how many times had you cum before he'd heard you? he swallows, the flames licking his belly as he pushes his head against your tight hole.

he grunts, you were so goddamn tight; your eyes widen as you try to move your hips, try to slide yourself onto his cock, but he stops you with a rough hand around your shoulder, pinning you down. "stop." he orders, leaning so he can spit down, the slick trailing down to settle right onto where his cock nestles against your entrance. you let out a strangled gasp at his actions, throat dry from your noises.

he doesn't give you time to beg, though, as he's slowly easing himself into you; you let out a yelp at the feeling, loud enough that Joel's hand clamps over your lips roughly, his breath hitting your face, "shut your damn mouth, girl."

you feel like you're splitting open as he inches in and it's barely just his head but you have never felt such excruciating bliss as now, your breath falling from your nostrils harshly as he eases himself into you.

you wonder how much he is restraining against just fucking hard into you - but you're tight after the orgasms you'd given yourself in the bath trying to satiate the feelings you'd figured out were from that fucking plant venom.

you don't even know if he'll fit all the way into you as he inches slowly in, taking a few grunting breaths before fully sheathing himself inside your hot pussy. you clamp around him, feeling full as he bites his lip, chest heaving, slick with sweat. his hand, still clamped over your mouth, tightens against you as he slowly starts to thrust; he reaches a part so deep in you that you nearly scream.

he's hitting your spot nearly immediately as he starts to quicken his pace, hips hitting against yours deeply. you moan his name, "Joel, fuck, 's so fucking deep." you gasp it, unable to think of anything but chasing the high that's been building since the second the plant's venom entered your system.

he doesn't seem to like when you start to move your hips, chasing his when he pulls away; his hand comes to your cheek in a quick smack, grabbing your attention immediately. you can't prevent the moan at the sensation, nor the way you clench tight around his cock.

the moan he lets out is half-way between your name and fuck, as he slides into you deeper, hand wrapped around your cheeks, training your eyes on his. there's a glint of something animal in his eyes: you're sure he sees the same thing in you, the venom of that plant coursing through the two of you, nearly palpable in the air of skin slapping skin.

your cunt flutters at the eye contact, the desire bringing you closer to the edge; his hands shoot to your shins, pulling them up to his chest and then he leans forward with a deep thrust, coaxing tears of pleasure from your eyes. "that's it, take it." he grunts into your hear, hips punctuating each thrust as his tip nudges that spongy spot inside you that curls your toes.

then one hand catches yours as you fist the sheets; he pulls your arm roughly down towards where he enters you as he bites the lobe of your ear. "you're going to cum." he tells you breathlessly, directing your hand towards your clit, pressing the pads of your fingers against it. you yelp in pleasure, more tears squeezing from ecstasy as you nod against his forehead, "yes, fuck, I'm gonna-gonna cum."

"that's right." he's deeper, "cum for me." he nearly whispers it, almost desperate. it's just what you need to push you over the edge: his hips angling in a way that has hot, searing pleasure coursing through you. you nearly go blind when you cum with a gasp of his name. his hips don't even stutter as he fucks you through your orgasm, the relief washing over you in waves of pleasure. you can't open your eyes, your chest heaving, arms locked on his biceps, hips quivering with the intensity of the feeling.

he keeps the roll of his hips as he slides easily through your ruined pussy, his brows pinched in pleasure.

"y'feel so good," you nearly go limp, your fourth orgasm drawn out by the touch of the man you couldn't ever stop thinking about. he's so deep inside you, you're surprised you can't feel him in your throat as he thrusts. "pretty girl," he mutters, pinching one of your nipples and sending shockwaves through you; the relief you'd felt from your orgasm, just like the previous ones, is soon washed away by the newly replaced desire, back again and somehow even more hungry.

you nearly cry at the thought, but something in you still yearns for it and you allow your ankles to cross around his hips. "never wanna leave this cunt." he mutters against your collarbone. you flutter again at his words, arousal slicking you, him, the sheets below you; the squelch of your juices fill the room as he chases his own high.

a particularly loud cry of pleasure lands you with his hand yet again over your mouth, but this time, you waste no time in pulling his fingers to your lips, sucking two of them in eagerly as your hand tries to wrap around his thick wrist.

his eyes meet yours and his jaw clenches as his hips stutter, nearing his own high. his fingers work quick; thrusting into your mouth, slick with your spit, gagging you as he bottoms out particularly roughly. your nails scrape down his back and you'd be more shocked if there weren't marks later.

a few more thrusts and you can tell he's close, so you pull his fingers out of your mouth to gasp, "please, cum in me, Joel," you whimper into his neck, biting down hard as he groans your name. his hand suddenly clasps around your throat, pushing you down against the mattress as he fucks into you deep, his eyes screwed shut, "don' say shit like that to me, darlin'."

but his thrusts are getting sloppier as you squeeze around him, luring him in, the intoxicating scent of soap and him and his musk surrounding your head. "please, I'll do anything." you whine, hand crawling up his neck to cradle his jaw. his dark eyes meet yours and he moans at how earnest you look, his hand tightening his grip around your throat and squeezing slightly, your airway constricted for a slight moment, causing you to gasp for air when he leans back.

your desire has you cloudily begging, pulling at his hair, his arms, his back, keeping him in, and finally he growls, "shut up." he snaps, "'m gonna cum in you, and you better be fuckin' good." he barely looks at you as he lightly slaps one of your tits, grabbing the other and pinching your hardened nipple as he watches your whole body bounce from the force of his thrusts. "god, you feel so good." he mutters to himself. you preen at the praise, your own high creeping near.

your lips are clamped shut, his hand holding your head down from your throat as you nearly scream, his thrusts slowing and sloppy. he lets out a delicious moan as he hits his high. "that's right, take me." he mutters, his chest shaking as he cums; he's moaning loud as he thrusts one last time, his seed coating your walls.

"fuck." he eases, his thumb falling to soothe over your hairline gently as he releases into you. "so good for me, aren't you?"

you swallow, the burning fire of desire still smoldering in your core, your tear trails long since dried, your body exhausted but full of energy. you nod, unable to trust your words.

he pumps into you slowly once more before pulling all the way out, the noise of your slick and his cum slippery as you feel empty without him filling you.

but he's already distracted, his eyes hazy as he watches a bit of his cum spill from your weeping hole, his thumb dropping to slide it back up and into you, pressing against your entrance, your breath catching.

"is it- is it gone for you?" he asks, his voice strained. you don't need to look down to see that the venom hasn't yet run its course through his system yet; his eyes are still alight with the same animalistic desire that you feel pounding in your heart. your feverish sweating, the headache - most of it's gone, replaced with an intense, destructive desire that has you keening into his hand as it cups your used pussy, his eyes teasing.

"no," you moan, "you?"

he's already dropping to his knees as he breathes out, "no."

your eyes widen. in your haze, you're searching for any relief for this growing arousal, the feelings you have for Joel driving you to beg endlessly for him, yet you hadn't expected him to do this. immediately, his hands wrap around your shaking thighs, his breath hitting your bare, throbbing pussy. you can't even think as you card your fingers back through his hair, hips jerking up away from his face as he licks a small stripe over her swollen clit.

you're so worked up that you can't help the tightening coil as he soon dives his tongue into you, cleaning up the mess you'd made between your thighs, swirling around your clit.

you tug hard at his hair's roots, hard enough he's sending a groan into you that reverberates through you, vibrating your chest as you clamp one hand over your lips.

fiery pleasure snakes through your body, your ankles falling over his shoulder onto his back as he eats you out like a staved man. you see his arm moving through your clouded vision and you let out a pathetic whimper as you realize the wet noises aren't just from his mouth on you: he's fucking his fist. his movements make your legs shake hard, eyes rolling back as he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue.

“Joel,” you mutter, his name the only thing that can come out of your mouth as you can’t help but grind down slightly. Joel's hands are hard on your hips; you know tomorrow as you pull on your jeans, you'll have ten fingerprints marked into you.

it sends a delicious swirl of pride through you as he moans into you, "you taste so good, darlin'.” he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to your heat. your eyes roll back again as one of his hands reaches up to grasp your tit, thumb and finger pinching and rolling as he fucks his tongue into you. one of his hands snakes up to your ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making you buck your hips against him.

“Joel, i-” you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, the overstimulating pressure making it increasingly harder to speak. your toes curl and head tilts back as his teeth graze over your clit, your thighs clenching shut as your orgasm nears violently quick.

"you gonna cum again?" he mutters, barely breaking away from you, his own hand moving fast as he fucks his fist; you yearn to feel him in your mouth, to taste him. “please, please.” you mutter, your hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at your clit and making you cry out. “please, make me cum, Joel.” you plead, tugging his head closer, his hand slapping your ass again.

and then you're clenching your thighs on either side of him and grinding down as you hit your peak, shaking in pleasure. you grind yourself onto his tongue as he drinks you in, cleaning you of every last drop, his thumb soothing over your hip. he rides you through your high, lapping at you and only pulling away when you go lax on the mattress, legs twitching, gasps ragged and scarce.

you'd have probably passed out right then and there if it hadn't been for his own strangled grunt, your eyes snapping back to him, to where his hand wraps around his own dick, slick with your cum and his own spit.

"Joel," you mumble, cheeks feeling hot as your mind starts to lift, desire yet again pooling between your thighs as you slide down, off the bed until your back hits it, hands caressing over his thighs, "let me taste you." you ask, cheek hot as it lays on his thigh, your eyes begging up at him.

he moans deeply as one had slides behind your neck, steadying you as his other grips himself, "stick out your tongue." his pupils are blown so wide you can only see black. you follow his order, sticking out your tongue as you eagerly lean towards his cock, his brows furrowing as he slaps your tongue with himself.

his hands tug you towards him, your lips tugging over him as you take him into your mouth, trying your best to look up at him. you gag around him as he thrusts his hips forward, your hands flying up to grip his thighs. "fuck, look at you," he moans, his grip tight against your head, slowly starting to fuck your throat, your eyes tearing up. "so eager for me, bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, hm?"

your face heats up as you hum, unable to say anything as he slides into you, tip pushing against your throat, your eyes rolling back. "yeah, you would. i know you think about it, darlin'. think about it all the time."

you should be embarrassed to learn that Joel had, under more sober circumstances, noticed how you acted around him. but instead you let the trail of spit slide down your chin and onto your bare breasts, your fingers pushing it over your hardened nipples as he pulls off your mouth.

you gasp for air, looking up at him with wet eyes. "get on the bed." he orders and you scramble with weak legs onto the mattress, staring at him, the familiarly torturous desire in you throbbing. his hands push you around until you're on your elbows and knees, his hand swatting your ass. "gonna cum on that pretty ass." he mutters, hand grabbing a handful of the plush skin as he spreads you open, "okay?"

"yes, yes, please." you mutter, face sweaty and stuck with your wet hair as he leans down, spitting onto your glistening, puffy cunt. you're nearly sobbing into the sheets as he slides into your wet, warm hole, his groans just as wrecked as you.

"jesus christ, girl." he mutters to himself as he starts to thrust into you, the new angle setting your whole body alight with the coiled pleasure. it builds fast until you feel like you're on fire, his hands rough against your hips, swatting your ass every time your hips pulled away from the overstimulation.

"you need to come." his breath is hot as it hits your cheek, his chest pressing to your back. he's deep into you, tip hitting your sweet spot with every rolling thrust of his hips. then slipping one hand onto the back of your neck, the other snaking to toy with your sensitive clit.

your legs nearly give out as your back arches, the orgasm crashing over you before you can even register it.

you can't see, blind with the bliss of pleasure; your thighs shake as he mutters dirty words into your ear, Joel's hips stuttering as you clamp and flutter around him, slickening yourself and his pubic hair, skin wet with your arousal. you're so sensitive you can't do anything but take his cock as he fucks you, deeper and slower as though he's coming down with the mind fog just as you.

when he hits his own mind-numbing orgasm, he's pulling out of you fast and finishing in hot spurts onto your ass, streaking up your lower back and sliding down into your quivering core.

your name is the only thing on his lips as he slowly slumps down onto the mattress next to you.

you both wait; it's silent besides your sniffling from the overstimulation and the soreness of your throat and Joel's labored breaths. you both wait to see if that torturous feeling comes back to your groins, suffocating and clouding your judgement.

but instead, the fog clears, and within five minutes of silence and stoicism, you're sure that whatever the venom was, it'd passed through your system. "Joel?" you whisper it, cracking slightly. you hear his head shift; he'd not looked at you at all. you're not sure you blame him, embarrassment creeping through your face. but not regret. definitely not regret.

he whispers your name back, and there's a vulnerability in it that has your eyes snapping to his, searching for the dilation of his pupils, any sign to show the venom was still in his system. you can't find any. "do you- is it gone? for you?"

he blinks at you once before nodding his head, "yes. n'you?" you nod at him, muttering a small, "yeah."

he knows he should go get a cloth to clean you up. he'd possibly have to help you up, help you dress... his throat dries as his now less foggy brain recovers the memories of moments ago; the size of your pupils blown out with lust. he looks over you; he'd ruined you.

another wave of self-doubt runs through him; you were not like him, you weren't bad like him. you deserve better.

but the way you stare at him now, as though you want nothing more than to do what you'd both just done every day with him...

he opens an arm, accepting you as you slide your limp, exhausted body against his own naked form, his arm squeezing you to his chest as he sighs deeply. you nuzzle your face into his neck, your own heart racing just as fast as his.

he feels like a damn fool - it'd been far too long for him, he's not sure how to approach these feelings he harbors for you, so he'd hidden them down with anger and irritation and eye rolls; but now he's gone and fucked you like you were just some other whore.

his lips press to your forehead. he doesn't think he can say anything, not right now. he still feels like he's got a fever, and by the looks of you, you feel it too.

so he hopes the kiss he tenderly lays on your hairline says what he can't: he's sorry he was rough with you. he hopes you're okay. he hopes you don't regret it. he hopes you know... he hopes you know it wasn't just about that damn plant’s venom.

he pulls away from you after just a moment, rising to tug on his boxers. but as he crosses the threshold into the bathroom to gather a washcloth for you, your soft voice stops him.

"Joel." you mutter, eyes nervous, exhausted. he stops, looking at you.

you're just as nervous as he looks; you're unsure how to interact with him now, the man you trust with your life, the one who acts like he hates you, the one you know probably loves you; and then you'd fucked him like he was just a dick, though you wish you could tell him: he's so much to you.

"that wasn't-" you're unsure how to convey it, "it wasn't just about the-whatever that plant was. I don't regret it. and I hope you don't either." you're glad it sounds as genuine as you feel when you say it. you want him to know he didn't hurt you. and you hope you didn't hurt him.

his face flashes with relief, with adoration. "I don't." he says, turning from you quickly.

and if his lips ghost over your knees and leave goosebumps on their wake, if his hands soothe gently over every budding bruise of his handprint on your hip; you don't mention it now.

if he gently and devotedly wipes you both clean, if your hands fold together as he settles back down against you, if your hearts beat together as you settle into the fever nap that claims you both; you just smile gently at his bashful grin.

and if your lips brush against each other just before the sleep takes you both; well, then you'll talk about it all later.

taglist: (message to be on joel miller taglist/regular tag list.)

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #joel miller x you #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

Something good and right and real - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel had spent centuries believing that he of all people didn't deserve a mate. And if anything, the last three years had just galvinised that particular belief. And then he meets her.

The first time Oriana met Azriel, she thought that he reminded her of a skittish cat. Shy and a little bit broken. Good for him that she absolutely excelled in fixing the things around her.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing, Discussion of Murder, Discussion of Mental Illness

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Of all the things that finally gave Oriana the spark that she needed to figure out the problem that she had with Azriel’s fighting leathers…well, nobody would have thought that would be a children’s bedtime story.

But it was.

She read about dragons and the power of love…and came out of it with her brain literally smoking with ideas.

Chainmail. Human Knights wore chainmail.

She didn’t for one moment think that that was going to work for Azriel.

But the dragons made her think of scales and suddenly it was three days later, Azriel returning from a mission from the cauldron only knew and her forge was absolutely covered in bits of adamantium.

And Oriana’s hair was standing in every which direction.

“You look like you had a productive time,” Azriel quipped and she looked at him bright-eyed and excited. But she wasn’t going to tell him a single word.

She had even sworn his shadows to secrecy. She thought they were more amused by her request than anything, but after she had explained what she was planning, they were happy to agree.

She was going to finish this…and it was going to be perfect.

“Oh, I was,” she agreed immediately. “But please, take me out for the rest of the day, because I think otherwise I may become one with the forge.”

She wasn’t even joking. She should really leave it one of these days.

“We don’t want that,” Azriel agreed, a grin playing on his far too handsome features as he leaned down to press a kiss against her unresisting lips.

She happily twirled her arms around his neck as she kissed him.

“I came to kidnap you,” he said softly and she grinned at him.

“Is it kidnapping if I come willingly?” she wondered. He shrugged.

“I have no clue,” he admitted.

“Knife work?” she asked him and he shook his head.

“No, but we’ll be…near the clearing,” he said. “It’s getting warmer. So I thought…Picnic?” he asked her and her smile filled her whole face.

She had learned early on that while Azriel didn’t often talk about his feelings…they were there in every single action in all the time he made sure to spend with her. He was the one who got her flowers just because and who brought her chocolate from her favourite shop, even when she had never mentioned it to him. She was the one who just left things in his path, waiting for him to find them, not wanting to overwhelm him.

It worked for the two of them. But still, the thought that even when he had just come back home, he had come back straight to her, but still managed to bring along a beaten-up knapsack filled with food and drink…well that was adorable.

They took the usual flight route, the wings beating behind his back rhythmically and Oriana yearned for a moment when the opportunity would arise and she could reach out to touch them.

Still, as he touched down it wasn’t the usual clearing they used whenever he taught her how to try and stab somebody with that knife of hers.

He hit the ground but didn’t put her down as he carried her forward.

She felt the moment they passed the ward boundary. “Yours?” she asked and he nodded.

“Mine,” he agreed. And then, suddenly, they left the forest behind them and she stared at the perfect mountain lake that stretched just feet away from them.

Azriel let her down gently and her feet hit the floor as she felt the sunlight kiss her skin. It was getting warmer in Velaris, Spring having truly arrived, Sumer just coming around the corner.

And for just a single moment, she couldn’t quite believe the beauty before herself. This was…gorgeous.

The water was nearly azure blue, the sun happily shining down onto their little slice of paradise.

It was all there. Perfect.

“I love it,” she breathed, turning around and catching Azriel watching her, a shy smile playing around his lips.

“Good place?” Azriel asked her, quietly.

“Are you kidding? It’s the best!” she exclaimed, already crouching down so that she could remove the shoes she wore. She stared across the lake as she fussed with her laces, finally getting rid of them. She was so going to put her feet in the water.

Only then, she caught the cabin that had been built on the other side of the lake. Or maybe a cottage was more fitting. A fairy tale cottage. Built out of grey stone, overlooking the lake. Ivy growing along it, a bright blue door…

She froze.

If there was a house there…then how had Azriel warded it against…

��That’s yours,” she said softly, realisation setting in. “The house is yours, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“Yes,” Azriel agreed, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I should have known that you were going to figure it out,” he teased her softly.

She rightened and then turned to watch him watch her, a near-bashful smile on her face.

He was sharing that with her. Ever since he had told her how he had gotten the scars a week or so prior…ever since then he had started opening up to her about more of his past. Sometimes inconsequential things, but she still hoared all of them like precious gemstones.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she finally said. She couldn’t even imagine how much that had taken from him, because he seemed to be so fiercely private and guarded about so many things.

“It’s you,” he said like that made that all…easy.

Oriana smiled.

And then she turned back around and waded into the water without even waiting for anything else.

“I wouldn’t… suggest that,” Azriel started to warn her, but she ignored it.

The pebbles were comfortable under her feet, the water icy. “Why? Don’t you like the cold?” Oriana asked him with a laugh, tugging her skirts up higher so that they wouldn’t get wet.

“This is icy,” Azriel said, sounding worried on her behalf, but she just grinned at him.

“I was born in the mountain. You are aware that we bathe in the hot springs and with clear spring water, all the time, right?” she asked him, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Communal bathing is even part of our culture,” she told him matter-of-factly. That didn’t stop Azriel from staring at her like she had just grown a second head.

“What, don’t act like you have never done that before,” she teased him. “You seriously want to tell me that Illyirans have nothing similar?” she teased him.

She was getting used to the water, still cool on her skin but no longer icy and she looked over the lake as she wondered if it was hot enough that she could get away with it…

“We…Illyrians have Birchins,” Azriel finally admitted. She cocked her head to the side. “We go in there to…sweat.”

“Is that something like steam chambers?” she wondered. She knew that. They had that in the mountains.

“Sounds similar,” Azriel agreed and she decided that she only lived once and as such she was going to take advantage of the beautiful water.

That was all she needed as she made that decision, stepping back to the shore only to start opening the ties at her back that kept her dress closed and then pulled it over her head.

“What…What are you doing?” Azriel asked, his voice sounding a mixture of hoarse and garbled. But that didn’t hide the sudden stab of arousal that she got through their bond as she pulled the dress over her head and dropped it to the ground next to her shoes.

“What does it look like?” Oriana wondered as she stepped out of her undergarments. “Taking a swim in your lake.”

Azriel made another sound like he was hurt or possibly dying. Oriana was far too amused to stop now. “You are welcome to join me, of course. If you want…”

And maybe, just maybe, a part of her was far too curious.

And then there was the fact that ever since she had taken off her necklace, he had been…hesitant with her. Not with talking with her, but with touching her, with pressing issues to her…they were always chaste and gentle, and a part of her was yearning for something more.

He didn’t answer. She was wading in the cold water, taking a deep breath when it was deep enough that she could start properly swimming.

“Unless I am hurting your delicate sensibilities?” Oriana teased him, biting her lip.

The growl that came from the shore in response made every hair on her body stand up in response. Her arousal was a sharp stab in her lower belly, the heat low and molten.

“Maybe it’s too cold for me,” Azriel’s voice came from the shore, low and dark but she listened to the sound of clothing being removed and she bit back a smile.

“You aren’t mated for me for nothing,” Oriana gave back with a soft snort.

She had fought for decades with her gifts until she knew that she had the kind of control over the fire within her that she wasn’t going to accidentally set anything on fire.

However, that also meant that there wasn’t much that she hadn’t tested to figure out the extent of her power. And so it was the work of nothing to let the water around her grow hot until it was hot enough to be steaming and bubbling and then let go of her power until it cooled down enough that it was still hot, but no longer boiling.

“They do say that Autumn Court Faes have fire in their blood,” she quipped.

“And here I thought that that was only about males,” Azriel said with some amusement, suddenly behind her, a broad hand curled itself possessively around her hip and she grinned like the cat that got the fish and the cream for dinner both.

“Oh, you know…We can’t have males have all the fun,” she teased him, even when warm lips suddenly pressed against her pulse point.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Oh, love, I think you are having plenty of fun. You enjoy teasing me, don’t you, you horrid mate,” he teased her. “Just starting to strip off all your clothing without nary a forewarning…”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. You are a male,” she gave back, but her voice was starting to sound surprisingly breathy and he pulled her against a broad chest, taking her weight.

“Of course, I enjoyed it,” Azriel whispered into her ear, making her shiver. She craned her head so she could kiss him properly, his lips pressing to hers.

She gasped against him, letting her hands slide over his shoulders, feeling the slick, damp skin underneath her hands, a spiderweb of scars covering them.

She pulled back and came eyes to eyes to his naked chest for the first time, the bronze skin seemingly glowing in the afternoon sun, only interrupted by intricate lines of black tattoos.

Oriana couldn’t help herself from reaching out to touch them, from sliding her fingertips over the skin that held them.

“What are these?” she asked Azriel curiously. Not Bargain marks, were they? They looked different.

“Illyrian warrior markings,” Azriel answered, his wings rustling behind him. “Luck and Glory in battle. We get them after the Blood Rite.”

He had mentioned that to Oriana in an offhand way a few days ago.

“They are beautiful,” Oriana said softly, his wings shifting once again, as she pulled her hand back. “Not as beautiful as your wings though,” she said with a grin.

They seemed to act without conscious thought of him, stretching out further, so that Oriana could see every inch of their massive expanse.

She swallowed.

Unwillingly, suddenly there were her sister’s words in her mind again.

She watched as the blush stole over his cheeks and her toes curled into the pebbles in the ground beneath her.

“Can I…May I touch them?” she breathed and he swallowed.

“Yes.”

Somehow this was different than the night she had spent sleeping beneath one of his wings, feeling the weight of it on top of her body. Now was the first time that she actually got to feel the soft, leathery texture underneath her fingertips, the veins that shot through them, the scars that pebbled against her fingertips.

She was so very gently as she touched him, not sure how…how much prefer to exert but she didn’t seem to…They trembled against her hands and she pulled back.

“Don’t…” Azriel pressed out hoarsely. “They are just…sensitive.”

Sensitive?

She took another deep breath, the scent of forest and cedar that surrounded him having grown musky and she could pick out the undercuttren t of arousal.

She was quite sure that she smelled no different.

“Are they?” she asked instead, fingertips going back to gently tracing the lines of veins, and then up until she reached the talon on the edge of it. She wrapped her hand around it.

Azriel reacted with a hiss.

“Yes. And unless you want me to have my way with you right now, you should let them go,” he told her hoarsely.

She let him go.

And then leaned up to press a kiss against his mouth, pressing her chest against his, feeling her nipples grow hard by the sudden touch.

He held still, even as his hands came up to cradle her face.

“Promises promises,” she sing-songed breathlessly, looking into hazel eyes that were so dark they were nearly black.

“I always keep my promises,” Azriel told her darkly, dipping down to kiss her again, hands slowly brushing down her back and now it was her turn to shiver.

“Do you?” She asked him breathlessly, for a moment forgetting what they were even talking about.

“I do,” he assured her. “I always do.”

And then he kissed her again, and all thoughts flew her brain because her whole world narrowed down to just Azriel.

Just Azriel and the touch of his skin against hers, his mouth on hers…the cool water of the lake.

It was his shudder that made her pull back, as she had realised that the water was too cold to stay there for much longer, even when she warmed it with nary a thought once again.

So out they went, with Azriel first, too much of a good male to sneak a peek…Oriana didn’t have that problem. She looked at her piece, taking in the broad shoulders, narrowing to a trim waist, the massive wings that were still flaring wide…the scars that dragged one right down his back and over his ass. It was quite a nice ass.

Nice legs as well. She shouldn’t be staring. She still did it.

She liked looking at him like that.

And she would kind of like to see the other side too.

She slipped back into her dress and sat primly down onto the picnic blanket Azriel had brought along, eating her fill of sandwiches and cookies and then promptly decided that other tactics were fine too, and laid her head on a strong thigh as she stared into the beautiful sky.

She sighed softly, closing her eyes, for once in her life utterly and irrevocably happy.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt that way before Azriel.

She picked up one of his hands, intertwining their fingers, one broad wing acting as her personal sun umbrella…

“I was thinking…” she started.

“Always dangerous,” Azriel quipped and she snorted.

“You are so right,” she agreed easily. “Still, I was thinking…if we properly accept this mating bond…do you want a ceremony?”

He was quiet for a moment and she opened his eyes to have him watch her, his eyes so soft, so wide…like he couldn’t possibly imagine that they were talking about this.

“Whatever you want,” his voice was hoarse as he said these words, picking up their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of hers.

“But I asked you,” she prodded gently.

“I really don’t care. Anyway, I get you is good in my book,” Azriel said softly. “But if you want a proper ceremony then we’ll do that.”

She smiled softly.

“I just want you,” Oriana assured him. “It’s about us. Not about anybody else.”

Besides, she had done the whole marriage thing once already. The proper way. With all the ceremonies. And look how that had ended.

So maybe this tie, when it was just about them…just the two of them, the way the Mother had intended…Without anybody else’s opinion weighing on them, because they were both adults and could do whatever they wanted for cauldron’s sake…that seemed nice.

“Though before we do that, I have some…requests,” Oriana finally said, fingers tightening around Azriel’s.

He hummed a question.

“I want you to meet my family,” she said quietly. “Eventually everybody, but we can start with Cyrus and Briony, and their younglings.”

At least then Azriel wouldn’t be a completely overwhelmed mess at the end of it. “You already met Cyrus so that should be easy. Just dinner, nothing fancy,” she assured him. “And a second thing: I’ll take you dancing at least once.”

“That’s all?” he asked her, sounding incredulously, after waiting for a moment.

“What did you expect I was gonna ask of you?” she asked with a snort. “That’s all. You’ll probably meet so,e friends of mine when we go dancing as well, but that’s all, I swear.”

“Alright,” he agreed with a shrug.

“Don’t be too enthusiastic,” Oriana said with a laugh. “Now is the time to tell me any requests you have, by the way.”

The last thing she expected was the words he blurted out next. “I want you to meet my mother.”

For a moment Oriana’s brain felt like it was freezing before it started working again. His mother?

“She’s still alive?” she blurted out, her eyes flying out and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. “I am sorry, it’s just…you never talk about her,” she hurried to add. “I just thought that…” She had died in some tragic way centuries ago and Azriel still grieved her and didn’t talk about her because of that?

Yeah, Oriana had thought that.

“No, she’s…alive,” Azriel said, but the way he said that last word made her…curious. He stared at everything but her. “She’s not… well ,” he finally said carefully.

“She’s…her mind fractured. Rhys has tried to…help her, but every time we try, we just make it worse,” Azriel explained quietly.

Oriana just swallowed.

She had heard of that happening before, of the kind of sickness that no healer could help with because it wasn’t an illness of the body but the mind.

And even mind-healers could not always save somebody once it had…gone down a road like that. If Azriel’s mother’s mind had truly fractured…then everything that made her herself…all of that was gone.

“So…I try to make her as comfortable as I can. She had a house in the Illyrian Steppes…It’s called Rosehall. I have a… friend that takes care of her. She’s half wraith and somehow that makes all the difference,” Azriel said softly. “She keeps her company. And tells me when she has a good day so I can go visit…”

Just imagining her own mother in such a state was making Oriana feel like somebody cleaved open her heart. And Azriel talked about this so softly, like this was just how it was and there was nothing he could do, to make it any better.

“When my mom has a good day, she recognises me. She’s not scared of me. I get to talk to her…even when she doesn’t answer. But she’s…there,” Azriel said, one corner of his mouth lifting up as he recounts that. “But they are getting rarer every year.

“If she has a bad day then…then she thinks I am my father,” he whispered, his voice dipping into self-loathing. “She’s terrified of me then.”

She didn’t know what she was supposed to do, other than sit up and embrace him as tightly as she could.

“And you think that me meeting her…that would be good?” Oriana finally asked hesitantly. “I don’t want to make it worse, Sweetling.”

“You can’t make it worse,” Azriel said softly. “Maybe it’s stupid but she’s the only…blood family I have.”

She understood that.

“Then I’ll be honoured to meet her.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“So when should we do it?” Oriana asked him, practical like always, still draped over his lap. He would gladly spend weeks just like that, breathing in the warm scent of fire and home.

“I’ll need a few weeks. I need to arrange for leave,” he said softly. He didn’t want to wait. Not when he still was terrified that she was going to change her mind.

But he needed to somehow figure out an explanation for Rhysand that was going to be accepted without too much fuss… and wasn’t the truth but also wasn’t a lie.

Something that made sense.

Azriel wondered if he could get away with simply asking for a break.

Would that be accepted? Or would that then be a whole other thing? He didn’t know.

“Ah, yes, the Mating Frenzy ,” Oriana commented, waggling her eyebrows.

He opened his mouth to respond to that and then closed it again with a resounding click.

Yes.

The Mating Frenzy .

Something he was suddenly realising he was utterly terrified of.

And Azriel also realised that he had no idea how to deal with that fear. He hadn’t even thought about it before.

Being with Oriana, being her mate… of course, he had thought about a time when maybe they would officially accept the bond.

But it had been somewhere in the depth of his heart, where he didn’t allow himself to go too often, in fear of being disappointed again.

He was still waiting for something to go wrong. He always would.

Would always be waiting for Oriana to wake up one morning and realise that she was mated to a monster.

But still, he had…longed for a moment when she would offer him something to eat and all he needed to do was to accept it. To accept that she loved him and that she wanted him and…

He had hoped for that moment.

He had kissed her, he had put his hands on soft skin and held her, he had thought about how it would be to do so many other things with her…dark at night when he was along with his thoughts…but the idea of…Everything was stripped away until only the base instincts were still there…that terrified him.

What if he hurt her? What if he was so rough with her that…that he did something that he would regret for the rest of his existence? What if he harmed her in a way that even the quick healing of faes could do nothing against?

Oriana’s sudden touch against his face startled him.

He could just stare at her as she cupped his cheek, somehow having moved so that she was straddling him and he hadn’t even noticed.

Whenever he was with her, his situational awareness suffered and he felt like a youngling again.

“You aren’t going to hurt me.”

Oriana said this like it wasn’t even something that she was worried about. Like it was crystal clear that this wasn’t going to happen.

She said it with all the trust in the world.

He wished he had only a tiny bit of her trust in him in himself.

“That’s what you are worried about, isn’t it?” She asked and he just about managed to nod. Oriana’s eyes were warm, the flames flickering comfortingly. He still couldn’t always put a finger on it, when she pulled the glamour up or when it decided to go away on its own. It was always surprising him. Though he loved the flames so much more than he ever had loved the flat blackness.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetling,” Oriana promised him soothingly.

“You don’t know that,” he forced out. She didn’t. He could do something horrible. He had done horrible things in his past and he would do horrible things in his future. He always would.

“I could…” he could do that. So easily. He may have taught her how to use a dagger, but if he really wanted to…she didn’t have any chance against him.

“Yeah, and I could set you on fire with a thought. Won't do that either,” she quipped.

He froze.

Right.

Sometimes he forgot how fucking magical Oriana was.

“I don’t doubt that you are physically stronger than me, Azriel, but I do think that I could probably shock you enough to stop you for at least a moment,” Oriana said quietly. “That’s all I would need.”

“And then there is also the fact that hurting me would go against every one of your instincts. I am your mate . You aren’t going to hurt me,” she pointed out reasonably. “We could…if it’s going to calm you, we could have sex before we even think about triggering the Mating Frenzy,” she suggested.

“No!” He blurted out. “Maybe it’s stupid but…” but he wanted…he wanted their first time to be when they were really mated when the Mating Bond needed to be consummated.

“It’s not stupid,” Oriana assured him fiercely. “This is about us . We do what we want. What anybody else wants doesn’t matter in this particular instance, Azriel.”

She was right. Oriana was right, as always. It didn’t matter.

But for Azriel who had spent a whole life doing what other people told him to do…that was… freedom .

It was their mating bond.

And if there was anything in his life, that was just his…then it would be that , wouldn’t it?

It would be the bond that Oriana and him would forge together. It would be just for the.

And so they should also…have it exactly like they wanted. In every way.

“I’ll offer you food and we accept the bond and then we’ll stay holed up for a week or so,” Oriana said with a smile. “And I look forward to that. Very, very much.”

He did too.

Not the sex.

Well, also the sex. Making her his in every way that he could get away with…that was appealing in so many different ways. But he was also looking forward to just having that much uninterrupted time with her, to do nothing but kiss that flawless, soft skin and touch her everywhere.

“Though I would suggest that we do not do that at my apartment. My neighbours are busybodies,” Oriana said with a grimace. “But you seem to have a perfectly fine house right here. Far away from anybody that could want to check on us,” she teased him.

He did.

He looked at the house that he had bought over a year ago.

Then it had just been to get away from Cassian and Nesta and the whole Elain thing.

He had never even thought that he would get to bring his mate there.

But now he did.

The house that he had bought for himself suddenly seemed like it could be a place for both of them.

A sanctuary.

Removed from their day-to-day lives. He would still work for Rhys. Oriana would still have her shop and tinker away in the forge.

But then, when it was the evening, they could both come home. They could cook in the kitchen or go swimming in the lake…or go to their bedroom and ignore everything that happened out of their little slice of peace.

They could make it a home. They could fill it with warmth and happiness and nobody could tell them differently.

“I…I want to show it to you,” Azriel finally said. “I want you to see it.” He wanted Oriana to www the house and think about their future there.

“I thought you would never ask,” Oriana said with a grin. He couldn’t help but grin as well, as he pulled her to her feet, as she pressed a peck onto his cheek.

He held her hand as they ambled along the shore, around the lake, towards the house.

“I bought it nearly a year ago,” Azriel explained softly. “I was staying with my brother but he was freshly mated and…I didn’t really get much sleep,” he said with a sigh.

That was an understatement.

Cassian and Nesta’s enthusiastic couplings had given him more than one sleepless night.

And if they were quiet then his head had been swirling with thought of Elain and Lucien. And then…well, he had his usual nightmares that he always tended to have, one way or another and all of it had just been horrible.

“They were loud?” Oriana wondered, sounding like she was biting back some amusement.

“Oh yes, they were,” Azriel said darkly, making her giggle. She had no idea how loud.

“You could just enchant your doors, you know,” she teased him.

Great.

“Thanks for that suggestion, oh mighty Enchantress,” he gave back sarcastically, making her laugh even louder.

“But them being loud was only half the problem,” he admitted. “I was happy for them. I really was but I also…I wanted what…I wanted what Cassian had. Both my brother found their mate just months apart. And there I was…I was…I told you about me being in love for 500 years? and then…the female that…”

“Chose her mate over you?” Oriana ended his sentence. “You did tell me about that.”

Yeah, he had. It was better to be honest with her about all of that. Better for her to hear all the bad parts.

“All of that happened and…I wasn’t in a good place,” he admitted, as they reached the house. He helped her up the stairs to the front door, painted a bright cobalt blue. “This was…This was the only place I had where it was just me. Nobody else. Nobody that wanted anything from me, nobody that expected me to be anything…it was just me.”

Just him and his shadows. But even they had left him in peace if he requested that. Like right now. They didn’t like the rays of sunshine that much.

Azriel had spent so much time sitting outside on the Veranda and watching the starry night sky. It had been…peaceful.

Just him, in his house, with only the sounds of the lake and the forest surrounding him.

“It was your safe space,” Oriana said softly and he nodded. It was.

He opened the door.

Oriran walked in and he wanted nothing more than to tattoo that view into his brain and never forget it.

She was here. His mate was there, right there with him.

He wanted to remember everything about that moment. From the damp hair that curled down her temples, to the way her eyes widened, how her braid swished behind her as she walked into the living room, the big windows at the back showing the lake in all its beauty.

Somehow, she just completed it.

“It’s beautiful,” Oriana breathed as she took in the light wood floors, the exposed beams at the ceiling, the view .

He saw it through her eyes now. He had fallen in love with the privacy and the place, where it was built. Near enough the center of Velaris but far enough outside that he had some peace and quiet.

“Where is the furniture?” Oriana suddenly wondered and he grimaced.

“There isn’t really any?”

She turned around, staring at him.

“…Azriel, where did you sleep?” she asked him.

“Mostly on the floor,” he admitted. The look of an utter nightmare on her face made him hurry to add: “I grew up in a cell, at least this has windows!”

Suddenly he just knew that was the wrong thing to say.

She opened her mouth to respond and then closed it again. “You know I have a lot of things to say about this but I somehow doubt that any of that is gonna change your opinion of why you shouldn’t sleep on the floor. So I am just going to say, that I am not going to sleep on the floor. I am a delicate princess and need my beauty sleep. In a proper bed. With at least 2 blankets and no less than 3 pillows.”

He blinked at that. It was true, her bed had absolutely been covered in pillows. He had just thought they were all decorative.

“What, do you think I don’t?” Oriana questioned him, raising one sharp eyebrow and he couldn’t help but grin.

“You are beautiful with or without your beauty sleep,” he promised her. “But if you want to absolutely cover our bed with blankets and pillows, you can do that too.”

“I’ll move in with you. If you get some furniture,” she told him pointedly, making him laugh and move so that he could hug her.

“I thought maybe you were just going to bring yours with you,” he told her, pressing a kiss against her hair as he tucked her against his side. They could just rebuild her apartment in the house. That would be fine. The house was bigger so they absolutely would have the space for it.

Even for all the weird metallic wall art she seemingly insisted on.

Though now he wondered if that had some meaning that he wasn’t aware of.

Oh well, he was sure that Oriana would educate him about all of it if he asked her. And he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything he could away with.

She poked him in the ribs. “Be honest, you just want the ugly blanket,” Oriana told him sagely, making him laugh out loud.

That absolutely horrible and ugly blanket that he adored, because she had made it and always wrapped him up in it after he came back from a mission. It was nearly as good as a hug from her.

Yeah, he loved that stupid blanket.

“It’s such a good blanket,” he agreed with her. The best.

“Still if this is gonna be our home…we’ll need stuff that we picked out together ,” Oriana said seriously. “Like a new couch or something.”

That sounded nice. Making that place theirs.

“I want table linens,” he mumbled in her hair, breathing in the scent of Jasmine that clung to her and she sounded utterly aghast.

“You want table linens ,” she repeated.

He just shrugged. He did. He really did. He wanted the stupidest, most domestic things that he could buy. Table Linens. In white. For their home, for their table, where they would eat dinner.

“Alright, you can pick out table linens,” Oriana told him graciously.

“I thought we should pick out stuff together,“ he complained half-heartedly. She rolled her eyes.

“Apparently you have opinions about table lines that I don’t even know about. You are on your own with that, Sweetling.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #my writing #A Court of Gold and Shadows #Something Good and and Right and Real

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tokiwarcube · 3 months ago

Note

I have a funny thought ! How would the boys react to their s/o meeting their parents. I feel like this would be hilarious or uncomfortable for the s/o (because they may get to see pictures of the boys when they were babies/kids or some of them talking about weird topics) but downright mortifying for the guys, because they’re parents are embarrassing at times, lol !!

And it’s okay if you don’t do this one, have a nice day or night :)

I swear, I went into this with silliness and joy in my heart. But alas, not all of our boys had... passable parents. Not angst, but some of our boys are tinged with it.

Nathan Explosion

Maybe if he smashes the photo frames, he can gouge out his eardums so he doesn’t have to listen to this anymore. He regrets ever introducing you to them, and worse, he’s wishing death unto whoever created the fucking camera. How do they have this many photos of him? How do they remember such weird shit about his childhood? How does he not remember that phase, and how did they even get that photo? He hates every moment of this. I mean really, with how quickly Rose pulled out the baby albums, its like she’s been waiting for this moment her entire life. Maybe she has. And he knows his dad has too, with how readily he’s jumping on to add details to every little story. He knows you’re never gonna let him live any of this down.

He would like a copy of him, age 10, punching Donald Duck though. Now that, that was brutal.

Pickles the Drummer

If the stories that Molly remembered weren’t so damn embarrassing, he might feel happy that she remembers so much of his toddling years. But then she’s pulling out her phone to show you the old family photos she “sent to the clouds,” and she’s zooming in on one of his baby photos, and good God, he’s about to walk into the woods and never come back. He hates that stupid polo shirt.

He chooses not to comment on how she doesn’t talk about his teenage years, and he bites his tongue when the garage discussion comes up. Place a hand on his thigh to quell his bouncing leg before he loses it, please.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

This could go one of two ways — either A.) She sets her sights on you, or B.) She doesn’t. The former is just about the most uncomfortable situation you could possibly be in, and no amount of reminders that you’re dating her son will dissuade her. When Servetta is over, Skwisgaar has learned to just keep his head down, ignore everything, and just practice his scales. But the moment she starts flirting with you? It’s the only time you’ve ever heard him miss a note.

In the latter case though, she does actually try to regale you with stories from Skwisgaar’s childhood… but they’re tinged with a sadness that frankly, I don’t think she entirely grasps. Stories of him holding her hair back in the morning, that time he punched one of her dates, or that time he walked home in the snow because he thought she forgot him at school… not all of the stories are like that, mind you, but they’re interspersed so casually with the normal ones that really, it leaves a rather heavy impression.

Toki Wartooth

He’s catatonic, and for better or for worse, doesn’t recall much of the meeting once they leave. He’s left with very faint memories, ghost-like in nature, of Anja silently encouraging you to go out on the town with her… but it’s all very foggy.

William Murderface

Now surely, murder has to be warranted in this case. How the hell Stella keeps finding him, he’ll never know — what he does know, however, is that he’s about to lose his fucking mind. Rationally, he knows that the stories she’s telling shouldn’t be that embarrassing — he still pisses in the apple bins at the grocery store, who gives a fuck? — but it’s the way she says it that just makes his anger boil and his face flush in embarrassment. You have to be the voice of reason for him, otherwise he might actually kill her this time.

#metalocalypse x reader #nathan explosion x reader #pickles the drummer x reader #skwisgaar skwigelf x reader #toki wartooth x reader #william murderface x reader #dethklok x reader

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a-romantics-guide-to-life · 3 months ago

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𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔂𝓸𝓾 ᡣ𐭩 ⊹˚₊𝜗𝜚

trigger warning, there is a lot of descriptions of depression, not eating, sadness, grief, and just generally angsty feelings BUT I PROMISE THERE IS COMFORT just please be cautious and just know that if this felt a little too real, you are not alone (more notes at the end)

Your very being felt like it was being ripped out of your chest.

Invisible claws marring your chest as they hungrily are away at your happiness, making you feel empty and cold. Leeches ate away, sucking love and kindness out of your very soul, worming their way through your every vein. Your eyes burned with the scalding hot tears of your fury and sorrow.

However, it was your heart that cried out in agony the most. It was as if all the warmth of life had been ripped, shredded, torn, and massacred from your life.

The pain officiated the marriage between your soul and utter despair.

Your father had found out about your ‘little affair’ with Billy yet ,it was nothing of the sort at all. Your love and being had been devoted to Billy, clinging onto his every word, breath, and moment with him for dear life. You felt the butterflies fluttering in your belly every time you even dared think about those sapphire eyes and his warm hands. You felt the cool scales of desire slither up your back and around your legs whenever Billy kissed you. You felt the pounding of your heart with every deep chuckle Billy let slip past his lips and boisterous laugh that left your painted mouth.

For once in your life, you had a reason to smile.

In fact you had talked and laughed your throat as rough as sandpaper whenever you found yourself with Billy. You couldn't hide the bright smile you had lost with your mother or the same curious eyes Billy’s lil brother had.

Of course, Billy loved you for it. He never wanted you to hide yourself from him. He wanted to be a man worthy of your attention. He wanted to be a man you could be yourself with. He yearned to be a man you could open up too or lean on when things get rough. And most importantly, he wanted to be a man worthy of your love.

That’s all Billy had sought out in his life, love. He desperately screamed out for anyone to hear, pleading and begging to find love, to be loved, to love. He loved his Pa so much that it hurt to lose the memory of his face smiling at him. He loved his lil brother Jo so much that it hurt to watch him grow weaker and weaker with every minute they were in that damned house with Antrim in New Mexico. And Billy had hurt the most when his own loving Ma had been stolen away from him last. Her death had hit him the hardest because in truth, she was all Billy had left.

He had felt so empty after losing all he held dear. He started struggling and hurting people that didn’t do anything to deserve his anger and depression, his wrath and grief. He drank the nights away and even sometimes forgot to eat until his skin was so sickly and his stomach ate away at his bones.

His world had lost all its color. His days blended into brown and gray, each leaving him with nothing but a cold desolate plain where his heart should have been.

Sometimes, he’d beg the stars, the moon, anyone to take him next. Sometimes he wished for a death so swift just so he could remember the sound of his Pa’s full laugh, fall asleep with Jo once more, and finally tell his Ma of all his adventures.

Yet that all changed when he had met you.

Billy started praying that he won’t be taken by the Reaper tomorrow just so he could greet you good mornin’ and good evenin’. He started to find his will to live again and he found that his days were no longer cold and bleak but rather bright, filled with warm oranges and reds.

Being with you had brought his heart back to life, beating every single time he thought of you whether that was alone in the comfort of his bed or with you in the fields where you often met.

His heart beat with life as you laughed, prancing around the field, picking flowers and fashioning them into a crown which you always placed delicately onto Billy’s hair rich as ripe wheat hung in loose, tousled waves from his weathered hat. He cherished and kept each sticky flower crown in his place until they were frail and decaying.

You cherished every single moment together, kissing each other breathless, cuddling underneath giant trees earning respite from the harsh sun that freckled Billy’s face.

Yet, every high has come down.

And your world had come crashing down as your father bore down upon you the full might of his fury and unadulterated anger. He had called you a whore, meaningless hoe, he took every single thing you had considered dear and flung them at you as if they were burdens. He screamed at you for being so reckless and childish.

Worst of all, he told you that no one would ever be able to love you.

And what did you do?

You believed him.

You believed every single venomous lie he spouted at you. You curl further and further into the valley of your mind as he shreds your skin to shreds with his words as sharp as shards of glass. They nicked your skin as your happiness and joy seeped out of you like thick red blood, wounds you would never recover from.

You ran away that night. Stole one of his horses and rode off into the distance. You rode and rode through the cover of night until you reached the only other place you could, the tree.

You sat underneath it, the sky blanketed by the starry night sky. You screamed and sobbed, scalding tears flowing from your red cheeks. You wailed your voice hoarse, weeped until the tears dried up. Your head pounding from crying the night away. You rubbed your eyes as you shook from the waterfall of tears that fell onto the pillowy earth beneath you.

It wasn’t until the morning when Billy would find you. He had been riding, taking his stallion on a trot which he usually found himself riding to your little haven away from the prying and judging eyes of those in town.

Billy was surprised to say the least when he found you curled up under your tree. Billy’s heart raced, what had happened to you? You were still in that darlin’ little dress you had been wearing before, meaning that you had to have been out here all alone for some time.

As he moved closer to you, he noticed the slow rise and fall of your chest with each small breath you took. His aquamarine eyes roved over your face as he took a seat next to where you lay. His hand instinctively brushes your hair away from your face. Your face was red and eyes were rubbed raw. His thumb ran slow circles on your cheek. Have you been crying? Why? Had it been something he said? He did?

As if you could feel Billy’s presence, you started to stir, your nose twitching amongst the tall blades of the grass. Your arm hurt but the pain was nothing like the tsunami of remembrance that crashed over you.

“G’mornin’ darlin’,” Billy smiled, hand resting on your cheek.

Cold hot shame washed over you next. Billy had found you? How? How long had you been out?

You straightened up, combing your fingers through your hair, looking down at the grass bed you had slept in last night. Your stomach dropped, your skin going sick as you felt tears well up in your eyes threatening to cascade your still damp cheeks. You bit your lip and shut your eyes, willing the tears away. Naturally, that didn’t work as the tears started to well up even more. You crushed your lip even harder to stop yourself from sobbing. You hated crying and showing weakness, you hated that you cried always turning your head away or crying in the solitude of your pillow.

Billy immediately sensed your distress, bringing his large hands to your shoulders to comfort you. You shook his warm hands off, mourning the feel of his hands on you.

“‘Ey, pretty girl, what's the matter?” He brought his hands to your cheek as he carefully tilted your head up to look at him.

You let out a soft whimper as the tears ran down your cheeks, your nose red. You shook as you cried more and more, using your sleeves to wipe the tears away, praying they would stop.

“Aw, darlin’, come here.” His deep whiskey voice crashed into your ears. You opened your eyes, hazy from the tears that continued to cascade down your face.

Billy opened his arms, inviting you into the warmth of his embrace. You sobbed crashing into him. You buried your face into his shoulder, shaking and sobbing even more. You wrapped your arms around him, his warm body enveloping you. He gently brought his arms around you, cradling you against him as he soothingly rubbed up and down your back.

Billy stayed quiet as you let all of your sobs and weep out. He knew that he couldn’t know how you were hurting, opting to just be there with you. God knows that it was all he needed when he had lost his father, brother, and mother. He didn’t need their words of condolence or their optimistic words. All he needed was someone to lean on, which is all he wanted to be for you.

And so you sat there, as Billy heard your wails and cries, vowing that he would replace them with laughs and smiles later. But for now, he was there to feel with you, after all, that was all he needed.

Billy held you tightly and lovingly that day, and that was all you needed, to know that someone was there for you, that someone knew how it felt. Most importantly, you and Billy knew that there were no words that could comfort you, but you felt the love Billy felt for you as he sat with you there underneath the tree, as he sat with you as you told him what your father had said, as he lay there with you that night vowing he would never leave.

And Billy had understood your love as you kissed him that day in church, as you vowed to love and to cherish in sickness and in health, until death do you part.

this has absolutely been influenced by my own struggles and everyone copes differently, but writing is one of the ways that i cope with not so happy feelings so I just wanted to share a little glimpse at my experience with sad-der feelings

i hope that this has brought some comfort to you because writing this has absolutely helped me work through some of my own struggles even if i find solace in writing fantastical stories such as these and again, just know that you are not alone

thank you for reading! - emi

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth fanfiction #billy blurbs #yall things are BAD #like it’s actually so upsetting and it makes me so furious that I just cry #anyways this is my coping method soo #emi-sanity #missing billy hours #loving billy hours #emi overshares

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arcane-vagabond · 1 year ago

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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Mean girl Mandy, Flirting, Alcohol, Siren call, Supernatural elements, Kind of suggestive/smutty but not really? idk

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Alright, alright! The ball is starting to roll! We've got a lot going on now, I think. Can't wait to hear y'all's thoughts! Also, shoutout to @goldenseresinretriever for letting me bounce ideas off of her! You the real MVP!! If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist

“I thought the bonfires happened the other night?” You asked Bob as the two of you made your way down the practically deserted streets. It was late, and the only people out were the young adults still looking to have a good time. The family friendly activities had ended hours ago, and now it was time for the partying to start.

“They were supposed to,” he said, eyes scanning the dimly lit street, “but they got postponed because of all the rain the other week. This was the only night that worked for most everyone around town.”

“That works out for us, I guess,” you hummed, hearing the sound of crashing waves grow closer as you neared the beach.

“Hey, thing one and thing two!”

The two of you turned around to see a grinning Bradley jogging up behind you, and you turned with a smile to greet him.

“Hey, Bradley!” You chirped. “We thought you’d already be down at the beach with everyone else.”

“I was, but I forgot my phone at the house,” he said, waving his phone in his hand. “So I ran back to grab it. Everyone else should already be down there, though.”

“We better get a move on before all the drinks are gone,” Bob mused, already moving once again. Bradley fell into step alongside you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Skipper,” he joked, casting a smirk down at you. “You been avoiding me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you giggled.

Bradley scoffed, giving you an offended look that was made less serious by the grin on his face. “Me? Avoid you? Don’t be ridiculous. Who in their right mind would avoid a sweet, little thing like you?”

“You must not really know her then,” Bob snorted. “She practically cut my hand off when I went for the last fry at lunch today.”

“That was entirely your fault,” you huffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “You know how much I love french fries.”

“Yeah, enough to cause grievous bodily injuries, apparently,” he smirked. You scowled at him before looking back at Bradley who was also smirking at you.

“He’s being dramatic,” you offered with a shrug.

“Barely.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” you griped as the three of you walked down the stairs and onto the beach. You could see the glow from the various fires flicker in the night, groups of different people huddled around each one. “I have to set an alarm every morning to wake up before he does if I want any bacon.”

“Oh, trust me,” Bradley laughed, steering you towards a fire on the edge of the grouping, Bob in tow. “I grew up with him. I know how much bacon he puts away.”

“I am not that bad,” Bob huffed, earning identical dubious looks from both you and Bradley. You giggled when Bradley quirked his eyebrow at you.

“Sure you aren’t, Bob,” you laughed, earning a scowl from your best friend.

“You made it!”

The three of you turned to see Nat waving at you, the rest of the squad already settled in on the towels surrounding the small fire. You felt a shiver run up your spine as you made eye contact with a pair of mossy green ones. You looked away as your cheeks warmed, letting Bradley guide you across the fire and down on a group of towels, Bob on your other side.

“So,” said the brunette sitting next to Jake, blue eyes calculating as she took you in. She was just as beautiful as the last time you saw her. Tan skin glowed in the light from the fire, body lithe and athletic. She looked like she walked off the cover of a fashion magazine, and her narrowed gaze was trained on you, lips curled into waht appeared to be a permanent sneer. “You must be the tagalong I’ve heard so much about. Skipper was it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing over at Bradley as he stiffened next to you, a glare fixed on his face as he looked at her.

“Yeah,” you said, offering an anxious smile as you looked back at her. “That’s what they call me anyway.”

“It’s cute,” she said, tone indicating that she most certainly did not find it cute. “I’m Mandy. You’ve probably heard of me from the others.”

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’m not surprised,” she continued with a smirk. “I’ve known everyone here since we were in diapers. We go way back, you know. Don’t feel bad if you end up feeling left out in our conversations, okay?”

You shifted again, this time knocking your knee into your bag. The shells you carried with you jostled, clinking together, and you blushed when everyone looked at you.

“What was that?” Mickey asked, peering over to get a better look. You lifted your bag as you began to pull each shell out and placing it carefully on the towel.

“Oh, these are the shells and things I’ve been finding everywhere!” You smiled, running your fingers over the conch. “Aren’t they amazing? I’ve never seen so many beautiful shells in my life! And they’re all perfectly in tact, can you believe it? It’s like someone just plucked them up off the ocean floor and set them out for me to find!”

“That’s quite a collection,” Nat chuckled, shooting a smirk off to the side. You followed her line of sight, and your eyes made direct contact with the mossy green ones from earlier. Jake looked at you with an expression that could only be described as awe as he took you in, eyes peering down to where you cradled the conch gently in your hands before looking back up at you. His eyes shone in the firelight, a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at you. You felt another blush creep up your neck, and you leaned forward to place the conch closer to the fire for everyone to see. You heard a sharp intake of breath, and you looked up to see Mandy with a look of rage and shock on her face as she stared at you. You realized quickly she wasn’t staring at your face, but rather down at the base of your neck. Her eyes darted up to meet yours and her expression shifted quickly into one of cold contempt.

“You actually carry those around with you?” She sneered, scoffing out a laugh. “What are you? Five?”

You frowned up at her, suddenly feeling self conscious as you glanced around the group. Their smiles had shifted into looks of irritation as they glared at the brunette.

“Oh, I just-”

“I mean,” she sniffed, cutting you off, “I suppose it’s fitting for someone who looks like you though, right? You’re not exactly dressed to impress or anything.”

You looked down at your clothes, a frown on your face. You weren’t normally self conscious. Sure, you didn’t look like a model like Mandy, but you didn’t think you were hard on the eyes. You had dressed for comfort though, and it was plain to see in your jean shorts, tank top, and white button up. Mandy wore a pair of cutoffs and a tight fitting tank top that showed off her figure, and her makeup was immaculate. You hadn’t seen the point in putting any on. Should you have?

“Mandy,” Bob growled, glaring in a warning.

“Oh, I know she’s your friend and all, Bobby,” Mandy continued, a viscious smirk poised on her lips. “But let’s be honest. I mean, we’re among friends, right? And friends should be honest with each other. You’d be lucky if anyone gave you the time of day looking like that. Nevermind the silly, little shells you’re carrying around everywhere. You really should have left those back at the house, you know. And tell me you brought something nice to where for the ocean dance festival. Can you imagine if you wore some frumpy shorts to something like tha-”

“Shut up.”

All eyes turned to Jake who was glaring into the fire, eyes cold as the water that lapped the shore behind you. Mandy narrowed her eyes at him, rage clouding her features.

“Excuse me?” She spat, turning to face him. His gaze shifted to her, jaw clenching.

“Was I not clear enough?” He said evenly. “I said ‘shut up.’”

You hadn’t even realized that tears had gathered in your eyes until Bob laid a gentle hand on your shoudler causing you to jump. You looked over at him, sniffling as he gave you a concerned look. You wiped at the corner of your eyes, scrambling to your feet. You felt everyone’s eyes on you as you shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding their gazes.

“I’m, uh,” you gulped, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill over. “I’m gonna go get something to drink.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bradley said, moving to his feet and giving you a gentle smile. “I’m parched.”

You turned to Bob with a watery smile. “You want anything?”

He studied you for a second, eyes uncertain. You gave him a look that you hoped communicated your need to pretend like you were okay, and he pressed his lips together.

“Just a beer.”

“You got it!” You smiled, trying and failing to add your usual cheeriness to the statement. You gave a half smile that you were sure came off as more of a grimace as you made your way towards the line of coolers on the other side of the fires. Bradley followed you silently, and you kept your head down, feeling the tears start to stream down your cheeks.

You knew you were being silly. They were just words after all, and you were a grown woman. You shouldn’t be letting silly words get to you like this. But why did they hurt so bad? You knelt by one of the coolers, fishing out two beers and a coke. You handed one of the beers to Bradley, refusing to make eye contact with him as you pushed the lid to the cooler closed.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing onto your arm gently, pulling you so that you faced him.

You kept your head down, and Bradley let out a sigh.

“Listen,” he started, hesitating as if he were choosing his next words carefully. “You shouldn’t listen to Mandy, okay? She’s a stone cold bitch on the best of days, and, well, she’s never been told ‘no’ a day in her life. She’s always gotten what she wanted, when she wanted it.”

“What’s your point?” You muttered, glancing off to the side as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Bradley let out another sigh, taking his hand from your arm to run it through his hair.

“My point is that she’s taking her new experience with the word out on you, and it’s not fair. I know it’s hard, but just ignore her, okay? She’s just jealous.”

“Of me?” You scoffed, finally meeting his gaze. Bradley smirked down at you, casting you a wink.

“You’re pretty great, Skipper,” he hummed. “Anyone with eyes can see it. Now, come on. Let’s head back to the others, yeah?”

You nodded, and the two of you made your way back to the fire. As you approached, you noted that Jake was the only one still there, eyes trained on the flames in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. He jumped when Bradley plopped down next to him, leaving just enough room for you to slide in between them.

“Where’d the others go?” Bradley asked, twisting the top off his beer and taking a swig from the bottle. Jake grimaced, gesturing around towards the other fires.

“Take your pick.”

Bradley hummed, leaning back on the towel with his legs outstretched towards the fire. The three of you were silent for a moment, and you felt a tingling sensation on your left side. You turned to find Jake already looking at you, eyes soft as they took you in. Your breath caught in your throat, cheeks flushing. You thought you should have been been creeped out with how intensely he was staring at you, but you felt oddly comfortable under his gaze. In fact, you found yourelf sitting up a little straighter, almost preening under his gaze, and a small smile tugged on Jake’s lips as he took you in, eyes blazing as they reached your neck.

You jumped as Bradley suddenly leaned over in front of you, breaking the spell you found yourself under. A shit eating grin was etched onto his face as he looked at Jake.

“Did you know Skipper here always wanted to be a mermaid?”

You felt yourself begin to splutter as your cheeks warmed for a different reason, eyes growing wide as you peered between the two men. Bradley waggled his eyebrows as Jake’s own shot up on his forehead. A smirk graced his lips, giving him a devilish look to his already handsome features. He looked at you, smirk intensifying as he saw your flustered state. He leaned forward, smirk growing into a grin as you glanced away.

“Is that so?” He hummed, warm breath ghosting over your face.

“I will remind you that I was, like, five at the time,” you snapped, glaring at Bradley. He only chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he smirked lazily up at you.

“I think you’d make a cute mermaid, don’t you agree, Jake?”

Jake nodded with another hum, eyes taking on a look you couldn’t place, but it made you squirm nonetheless.

“Just imagine her swimming around with all her little fishy sidekicks,” Bradley teased, eyes alight with mischief. You scoffed, turning to face him.

“As if,” you snarked, “my sidekick wouldn’t be a fish, it would be a stingray.”

Jake quirked an eyebrow. “Why a stingray?”

“Oh,” you blushed, your nerves kicking up again. “Because they’re my favorite.”

Jake nodded slowly, like he was trying to commit that fact to memory. Bradley snorted beside you, and the two of you looked over at where he was smirking, eyes peeking at Jake before looking back at you.

“How could I forget?” He drawled, taking another sip of his beer. “I met Rusty when you and I were snuggled in bed the other morning.”

“That’s not-”

You were cut off by a growl to your left. You turned to see Jake’s entire expression had changed. His jaw was clenched, eyes trained on Bradley as if he wanted to take his head off. His fists were clenched so tight, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drawing blood from where his fingernails dug into his palms. He was almost too still as he glared at Bradley, the other man looking smug as he took in his friend’s appearance.

“Are you okay?” You asked the blond, and his eyes glanced over at you, gaze seeming to soften as he took in your concern.

“Bradshaw!” Reuben called from across the way. “Get your ass over here!”

Bradley heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet. “And that’s my cue,” he muttered.

You watched as he strutted over to where Reuben and Mickey were gathered with a group of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone with Jake.

“He’s such an ass sometimes,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?” You asked him with a giggle. Jake’s demeanor seemed to relax at the sound.

“Unfortunately,” he grumbled, casting another glare over at where Bradley stood chatting and laughing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You frowned, noticing how tense he still seemed to be. He looked back at you, hesitating before letting out a sigh.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just feeling a little overheated or something,” he muttered, flexing his hands as he uncurled his fists. He moved to stand, and you followed suit.

“Think I’m going to go take a walk to cool off,” he mused, rolling his shoulders back. You frowned, rubbing a hand over your arm.

“Oh, okay,” you said, glancing at the ground, shifting your feet in the sand that covered the towel. Jake seemed to hesitate once more, chewing his bottom lip.

“Do you want to join me?” He asked you, his green eyes hopeful as you met his gaze. You felt a smile tug on your lips as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, moving to grab your bag. You stopped when you noticed it was placed neatly on top of the towel you had been sitting on previously, shells already back inside.

“I, uh,” Jake stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t want anything to happen to them, so I put them back in your bag. I guess I should have asked first instead of just moving them. I’m sorry if I-”

“No,” you smiled, “it’s okay. Thank you.”

Jake gave you a nervous, tight lipped smile before nodding. “You can leave your bag here if you want. No one is going to take it.”

You returned his nod, gesturing for him to lead the way down the beach.

The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, the ocean waves crashing off to your right, and the cool, night breeze ruffling your hair.

“Listen,” Jake started, stopping to turn to you, eyes earnest as they took you in. “I’m sorry about Mandy-”

“Oh, no, Jake,” you frowned, shaking your head. “You don’t have to apologize for her.”

“No, but I do,” he stated firmly, face serious as he looked at you. “It’s my fault she’s taking it out on you. She’s been so convinced that she and I are going to end up together, and now that she knows that’s not the case, she’s on the warpath.”

“Jake,” you sighed, “I understand feeling some kind of weird responsibility for her, but her actions are her own. You shouldn’t have to apologize on her behalf. She’s a big girl just like I am, right? We’re adults who are capable of making our own decisions and apologizing for the wrong we do. None of this is your fault.”

He didn’t look convinced, and you took his hand in yours to offer him some kind of reassurance. A bolt of electricity ran through you, causing you to let out a gasp, and a warmth rushed over you, causing you to squirm. You felt like a magnet, drawn to Jake in a way that you couldn’t even begin to understand. You wanted to feel more of him, to consume and be consumed by him. You had never felt anything like it in your life, and you looked up at him hazy eyes to find that he wasn’t any better off.

His own eyes had a haze to them, seeming to glow in the moonlight. His breathing came out labored, almost like he was fighting to maintain his composure. His eyes raked over you, a hand coming up to rest on your cheek, and you nuzzled into it without thinking.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer to you.

“You’re just saying that,” you muttered, leaning into him.

“No,” he stated firmly, causing you to jump just a hair. His other hand came up to rest on your hip, pulling you closer so that you were practically molded against him.

“No,” he said again, gentler this time. “I mean it. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

If it were possible, you were sure your skin would have heated up even more than it already was. As it stood, a pleasant warmth spread through you at his proximity, and the hand that was cradling your cheek slowly drifted down until it brushed the mark on your neck. You let out a wanton cry at the shock of pleasure that jolted through you at the simple touch, and Jake smirked down at you, stroking softly over the mark again and again as he drew more pleasured cries from you.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, leaning his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose against the tip of yours. “I’ve got you.”

You couldn’t find it in you to feel embarrassed at the intense amount of pleasure you felt at the simplest of touches, too focused on the way his hands felt on you. You raised your own, one hand cradling his cheek as the other ran through his golden hair. He let out a groan as you tugged gently on the soft strands, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that spread across your face. Jake’s eyes met yours, the green of them so intense that it took your breath away. He glanced down at your lips, slowly leaning in-

“Jacob Seresin!”

You gasped, grasping at your ears at the almost inhuman shriek that pierced the night air. Jake pulled back, placing you almost protectively behind him. You peered around him to see Mandy glaring at him, blue eyes practically glowing with rage. Her gaze turned to you, and you shrank back slightly, hiding behind Jake a little more. This only served to make Mandy even more irate, and she snarled as she stomped closer to the two of you.

Jake bristled, standing taller as he continued to block you from Mandy’s warpath.

“How dare you,” she spat at him, lips pulled back into a sneer. “You’re mine.”

“No,” Jake growled, “I’m not.”

You shifted behind him, moving out from behind him slowly, and the pair turned to look at you. You gave them a sheepish smile, as you inched around Mandy, hands up in a form of surrender.

“I’m just going to head back so you two can talk in private,” you murmured. Jake looked like he wanted to argue, but Mandy’s glare had you moving before he could say anything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked back towards the bonfires, already missing Jake’s touch. You had never felt anything so intense in your entire life, and you wondered what had come over you to make you act so brazenly. You weren’t one for hookups, but you weren’t even sure that’s what that was going to be. He had held you so gently, like you might break or run away at any moment. You had been so ready to give him every part of you in that moment. You knew you should have been worried at that thought, but a large part of you thought that it felt right, that you should give yourself to him. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself wanting to turn around and go back to him.

You were about halfway back down the beach when it started. It was quiet at first, distant. But then it grew louder, and you found yourself slowing to a stop, turning towards the crashing waves to your left.

The song was beautiful, melancholic. It was unlike the one you had heard before, this one sounding more animal like than human, but you still found yourself drawn to it. It called to you, begging you to listen, and you did, feeling the sound drift through your mind and pulling you in. You weren’t sure when you started walking, but you felt the sand shift beneath your feet as you slowly made your way towards the water. The fires faded from your sight, the churning waves beckoning to you like gentle hands that promised refuge. The song grew louder, all consuming, blocking everything else out but the need to answer. You felt the wind whip your hair around you, the cold sting kissing your cheeks as the crashing waves grew louder, the song more desperate. The sand beneath your feet grew cold as you ventured into a spot where the water met the shoreline. You’re almost there, the song called to you. You felt a relieved smile tug on your lips at the thought of finally reaching your goal and answering the song. You felt the water come just up to your toes before retreating back. You closed your eyes in anticipation. Just one more step.

You let out a cry as you were yanked away from the water, a strong hand on your upper arm. Your arms reached for the water, your mind still foggy as a loud, keening cry sounded from the water before disappearing entirely. You whirled around to see Javy staring at you with an intense worry, Nat just behind him, worry clear on her face.

“Wha-” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head as it began to pound. “What happened? Javy?”

“Hey, Skipper,” he murmured gently, pulling you closer, away from the water. “We’ve been calling you for a while now. You okay?”

“I…” you trailed off, glancing between him and the water. “I’m not sure.”

“How about we get you some water, yeah?” Nat suggested, wrapping her arms around you as she led you back to the bonfires. You nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” you muttered, glancing back at the ocean. “Yeah, okay.”

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #hangman fanfiction #hangman x reader #top gun hangman #hangman imagine #hangman top gun #hangman seresin #hangman #mmats #meet me at the sea

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ash-asteroid · 1 year ago

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Winx "Flower Princess" gowns redesign kinda.

I say kinda because I struggle with dresses. And it's more practice for me. Man, I can't believe I was a winx kid that draws and can't design dresses. Probably a by-product of my "I'm not like other girl phases." Anyway gonna ramble about the designs a little.

I did the flower princess ones first because they are my least favorite gowns of the series. I think it's mainly the flowers, so I tone them down, having them being more like accents. Also forgot to design earings for most of them smh.

Bloom I had a lot of trouble. These dresses were used while they were "politicing," so I originally wanted to make Bloom look like her dress was from Domino. But I didn't like how it turned out, probably because Marion was my only reference for a dress (unless there's some background fairy in a dress from Domino. I'm too lazy to check.) So I went back to the general princess vibe instead for all of them. But if I were to redesign them again, I'd love to mix their homeworld's fashion with the typical fairytale princess look.

I have nothing really to say for Flora or Stella. But I wanted to change Flora's hair because I thought it was too casual. Wish I did something other then a bun looking back.

Skipping to Tecna for a second. I did base her dress off those "furtistic" dresses, which is just minimalism, really. And had to change Tecna's purple because if you grey scale the purple and green in the original design, it's pretty much to the same. I do like the color I chose, especially for the contrast, but I feel like it's a little too dark and messes with the vibe a little. Also gave her pants under her dress. I was just about to go on a tangent, but I'll just add it to the end.

Finally, for Musa and Aisha. Idk I felt like their hair didn't fit the vibe. I love them, but they didn't really go with the regal look, and more look like prom hairstyles. For Musa's dress, I wanted the front to be open and have her wear shorts. It just felt like a hint of masculine in a pretty feminine design. Aisha's dress really made me realize I need to look at more dresses because I was struggling with ideas. The rnd result is fine, but man, I need to work on more on gowns.

Anyway, heres me rambling about masculine Tecna. It has no real clear thought or direction and only losely ties to the redesign but whatever.

Hi to nobody, probably. If you are here you should tell me 👉👈. Anyway, I see Tecna and Musa as the most masculine. Musa is the most outloud about it, while you might not even notice how masculine Tecna is. Up until season 6, really. Tecna, for the most part, wore shorts or pants. Dress was saved for the gowns. Her skirts were usually pretty short, and something about them had masculine vibes. I can't quite explain it, but there is pretty simple I can almost think a few are shorts. Personally, I headcanon that Tecna doesn't care for dresses at all. Maybe if she has to, but that's it (maybe I'm projecting, idk. Granted irl, I'm not comfortable with dresses or skirts at all. So partial projecting.)

Basically, I think Tecna should wear suits instead of gowns. And Musa should wear something in between for that non binary energy.) But imagine a gender confused Musa going to her roomie Tecna for advice because Tecna is way more comfortable with leaning a lot more masculine.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#winx tecna #winx aisha #winx flora #winx stella #winx bloom #winx musa #winx club #winx club fanart #winx redesign #winx season 5 #winx

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listofwhyyouloveher · 5 months ago

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Hi! I was wondering if I can request the Curtis gang with a Curtis sister!reader who’s a lesbian? Like one day reader decides to bring her gf over and the boys just see this muscular southern woman that’s just a lil taller than Darry with their sister? Can it please be hc’s? 😚

Summary: The Outsiders meeting your girlfriend

Warnings: vague mentions of homophobia and misogyny

Author's Note: I doubt this is how the greasers would realistically react because yk it's Tulsa

PONYBOY CURTIS

I feel as if Pony would be most accepting of your homosexuality, like on a scale of 5 he's be a 3.5

He doesn't understand it and stuff but hes not going to think of you any less because he generally doesn't care too much

That doesn't mean Pony isn't annoying about it, sometimes he develops a small crush on the girls you introduce as your girlfriend

When he sees your girlfriend he's a little shocked but he sees it normal because that's how he'd stereotype a lesbian woman, muscular manly etc.

JOHNNY CADE

On the acceptance scale Johnny's about a 4, like Pony he won't think much less of you but he certainly thinks it's a little crazy

Johnny likes meeting your girlfriends because he thinks that people like you are a little more carefree and he enjoys it

When he meets your current girlfriend he's a little taken aback because of how strong and tall she was

They get along quite well, he thinks her quick wit and humor are quite enjoyable traits

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop is like a 2.9 on the acceptance scale, he still thinks of you as a friend but will refrain from hanging out with you in public if you're open about your sexuality (which, knowing these times, you probably aren't)

Sodapops never really liked meeting the girls you dated but he puts up with it, he doesn't like it because he's just not really used to it.

However, seeing how you were talking about your new girlfriend, he's kind of excited to meet her because he has no perception of what she could look like

He's shocked, jaw dropped, when he sees her, he didn't know women like her existed outside of TV and he's clapping you on the back for bagging a person like her

STEVE RANDLE

Steve is about as accepting as Sodapop, he has to really because Sodas your brother and they are best friends

He's trying his best to be as accepting as he possibly can but there's always be a problem with his mindset of course

Steve met your girlfriend by accident, he saw you two when you were both out and went up to you two.

He actually finds your girlfriend very suitable for you, there's a hint of protection in him but he knows you can stand your own

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two Bit is about the same as Soda and Steve, he doesn't really understand but he appreciates reform and is overall just glad that you're happy.

He's kind of intimidated by your new girlfriend, he's very nervous when he speaks to her, like he's walking on eggshells

However, after you all hangout for a while, he finds her to be really funny and a good person to talk to

He likes how good of a role model she is to his little sister, teaching her how to be safe and strong which he doesn't know if she'll need just yet but it's good to be safe.

DARRY CURTIS

Darry tries to accept you the most, he knows how hard it can be to be different, he felt that when he dropped out of school

He doesn't know whether or not inviting your girlfriend is a good idea because of how the rest of the gang will react

He decides to let her come and is prepping to make everything perfect, he's so caught up in the prep that he forgot to ask what she'd be like

He's sooo shocked when he sees her, he feels a little humbled by how tall she is and pretends he doesn't hear the "Darrys got competition" jokes.

DALLAS WINSTON

DALLAS IS A BITCH ASS MOTHERFUCKER, if you aren't perfectly to his standards, he's giving you sooo much trouble

He's probably talked about you behind your back a little but he's never saying anything too mean or to your face because Darry might give him the boot

However, when he meets your girl he's soo emasculated and humbled. He doesn't know what to do with himself he just sits there silently.

Tries to put a move on her to regain his ego but she's firm with him and it shatters his confidence again

#shroomsroom #clara'sroom #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #dally winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #steve randle x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #two bit mathews x reader #two bit matthews x reader #two bit x reader #pony curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #ponyboy x reader

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thefatesofspring · 19 days ago

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A list of Tamlin’s magic abilites & their potential

It’s quite a long post so be prepared…let’s start off with the abilities we are 100% sure of.

• Shape-shifting

- So as we know Tamlin can shapeshift, we also know he can shapeshift others (he mainly reserves this for his sentries as stated by Lucien)

- Potential: when Tamlin shapeshift’s he can do so into anyone or anything & if it’s anyone there is a high chance that he can take on that persons power/magic/ability e.g. if he were to shift into Rhysand he could take on Rhysand’s misting, daemati powers & whatever else he has.

(We kind of already know this is a possibility because of Feyre & her pregnancy, we find out that Nyx was conceived when Feyre was in her illyrian form & that he has illyrian wings, now even though in the book I’m sure it said Nyx was only 1/4 Illyrian, it makes no sense for that to be true if Feyre changed her entire body to her illyrian form which would suggest the shapeshifting happens on a cellular/gentic/DNA level & that Nyx is actually 1/4 high fae & 3/4 Illyrian, Nyx’s wings forming in the womb like an illyrian babe is consistent with him only being 1/4 HF because Feyre had shifted fully into an illyrian form & Rhysand being half illyrian)

• Glamours & illusions

- we know that Tamlin can create glamours & illusions because he did with the Archeron family (except Nesta of course) & he even did it against Rhysand & would have fully succeeded in that if he remembered to remove the 3rd plate set at the dinner table

- Potential: Tamlin has the potential to create glamours & illusions on such a huge scale that there really wouldn’t be much of a limit except maybe either his imagination or distance, we know that he glamoured his entire estate so that Feyre could not see the other faeries so what’s to say he couldn’t glamour an entire court?…or maybe even a continent?…

if Tamlin decided to be a villain after his mother was killed who’s to say Tamlin not only created this glamour but also put an illusion over everyone if he went into his villain era? What if he decided Amarantha was just made up so that he could get back at Rhysand? The potential is truly close to limitless, the fact that Tamlin was able to very nearly get one over on Rhysand & he is a daemati & supposedly an incredibly powerful one at that shows how powerful he really is.

• Air/Wind control & manipulation

- So 3 books in & we find out Tamlin has yet another ability when he single-handedly saves Feyre, Elain, Azriel & Briar using his ability to control air…I’m sorry is he the fucking avatar??😩😂

- Potential: at this point he can literally do anything Storm from X-Men can do with her ability to control the air element as well as anything Aang the avatar can do, if Tamlin wanted you to suffocate by simply removing the oxygen from the particles around you he could, tornado?✅ Hurricane?✅ Typhoon?✅ Cyclone?✅ Check✅ Tamlin has the power & potential to do it all. I’m not joking when I say this is an extremely fucking deadly ability to have.

• Healing

- Tamlin can heal himself & others exactly like Thesan can as he tried to do when it came to saving that Faerie who had its wings ripped off by Amarantha but do to Amarantha taking most of his powers he wasn’t able to do much at that time

- Potential: Well I mean he could cure pretty much any disease or bone breakages, whether that be in himself or one others.

• Shielding & Repelling against dark magic

- At the end of ACOTAR (book 1, Chapter 45, Page 405) we see through Feyre’s eyes what she sees just before Tamlin rips out Amarantha’s throat, “Amarantha screeched, kicking at Tamlin, lashing at him with her dark magic, but a wall of gold encompassed his fur like a second skin. She couldn’t touch him.” However I think SJM changes this whether it’s because she forgot she even wrote in this little gem of realised she made Tamlin too powerful & this alone makes Rhysand look weak in comparison I don’t know because in Hybern he’s no longer able to shield himself against that dark magic when Hybern uses a “leash” to subdue him so that he can’t attack the king of Hybern.

- Potential: Now the potential for this ability is insane & realistically Tamlin has the potential to go up against Koschei because we know Koschei uses dark magic of some sort & giving that it would be the perfect battle of light vs dark but it would also mean Rhysand’s magic can’t touch Tamlin so his misting ability could potentially falter on Tamlin

Now moving along to the hidden magic/abilities/powers Tamlin could have

• Elemental magic

- Honestly Tamlin could be Prythians version of Aang & Storm rolled into one, if SJM were brave enough to thoroughly write Tamlin & flush out his character in every aspect Tamlin would literally be Prythians mutant category 5 avatar👀 when Aang first broke free from the ice he only had the element of Air…Tamlin as we know it also at the moment only currently has air, if memory serves me correctly Aang then goes onto learning Earth bending…👀…what if Tamlin already knows he can earth bend…👀…or begins to learn it, he is after all the embodiment of spring!! & if we want to put more of a fantasy twist on it he can control plant’s & wildlife he is essentially an ecokinetic & his ability is ecokenesis.

Description from Superpower wiki: “The user is connected directly to the natural world and thus can communicate, influence, manipulate and control nature: all living beings and plants and natural phenomena, such as the weather and geology of the Earth, and the matter and energy of which all these things are composed. They can survive in any natural environment on earth.

The user can manipulate, tap into, blend and/or become elements of nature, including air, weather, lightning, earth, stone, metal, water, ice, light, darkness, clouds/mist, magma, fire etc. They can control animals and plants and mimic their abilities and forms.”

Now there’s been no indication to my knowledge that Tamlin can influence or control water but again if he has elemental magic that is a given & lastly FIRE!! If Tamlin is a descendant of Aelin & Aelin is know as fire-bringer descendant of Mala…YOU GUYS!!!…what if Tamlin has the colbalt blue fire!!! What if like Aelin, like Aang he has to descend into his power!!!…👀ive already said many times before Tamlin is a starborn fae like Bryce & Aelin so there is a potential for him to!!

• Daemati

- I want to thank @theegemini92 for reminding me of this one because I genuinely forgot about it until I saw her post today. So as it goes when Tamlin supposedly uses his glamouring ability to make the Archeron family believe Feyre is staying with an aunt it doesn’t strike anyone that his “glamouring” acted a lot like daemati mind manipulation??…👀

Now yes we know the ability to glamour is a trick of the mind to make you see something that isn’t really there but seeing something & thoroughly believing something that doesn’t exist are two vastly different things, the extent to which Elain & Papa Archeron truly believed that Feyre was living with a distant aunt over Nesta being fooled is crazy, both abilities revolve around the mind & we know Nesta has a “steeled will & mind” and Rhysand struggled greatly to enter Nesta’s mind using his daemati abilities…👀

The fact the only time Rhysand is ever actually able to access Tamlin’s mind is at the HL’s meeting strikes me as convenient more for Tamlin…almost as if Tamlin let it happen because he needed others to see that Rhysand would use his abilities against them if he wanted to…👀

• Resurrection & Reincarnation

- This one would tap more into the Spring Court magic lore side & the God of Spring, so again as we all know the definition of season of spring is life after death, rebirth, resurrection, rejuvenation, renewal, regrowth & new beginnings/blessings so on & so on.

Well you know how The Spring Court celebrate Calanmai what if on Calanmai when the magic is most potent it wasn’t just used as a night to increase fertility & create the next heirs but also a night where you could resurrect or reincarnate someone, not only would you rejuvenate the land but you’d also create life after death & resurrect a loved one maybe & it would technically all still fall under the category of Spring magic & maybe a bit of blood magic or something other magic but it’s still spring magic at its core performed by The High Lord of The Spring Court aka Tamlin.

Let me know what you guys think in the comments below🩷

Also let me know if you want me to do this for any other acotar characters

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #pro tamlin #tamlin #the spring court #high lord tamlin #high lord of the spring court #prythian #courts of prythian #seasonal courts of Prythian #Tamlin’s magic abilities #sarah j maas #SJM #sjm books #Tamlin is the most powerful high lord

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mrsjoeythehurler · 3 months ago

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When I Met You

(OC FMC x Liam Mairi)

All characters except for Aurora Sallow who is my OC and the FMC of this fic belong to Rebecca Yarros. The plot of Fourth Wing also belongs to Rebecca Yarros.

Content warnings: most of the warnings that are for Fourth Wing are also going to be in When I Met You. That includes: Blood, death, injury, violence and war. The only content warning I am adding is panic attacks (2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟAurora Sallow ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"You had to walk that thing twice?"

Sawyer nods his head. "Yeah. Turns out that when you repeat a year, you have to repeat everything that got you in the Riders Quadrant in the first place. That includes that death trap."

We're still in the courtyard, waiting for further instruction on what comes next.

"Well, that's unfortunate."

"Tell me about it, " he says, rubbing the back of his head. I, uh...I haven't told my parents I had to repeat a year." He looks at me with a wince.

I give him a small smile. "Well, your secret's safe with me."

I know all too well what it's like to not want to tell your parents things. My whole life, I've learned to keep my issues hidden. Keeping my panic attacks on the down low and my anxiety bottled up until I was alone. My parents already had enough to worry about without me being a burden. They didn't need me to worry about too.

I see a flash of silver in the corner of my eye and realize it's Violet.

"Sorry, Sawyer. I have to talk to someone real quick. Can I see you later?"

Smiling, he nods. "Of course, I'll see you later. It was nice talking to you, Aurora."

When I finally make my way over to Violet, I tap her on the shoulder. "Hey."

"Aurora? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

She sighs. "My mom sent me here. Trust me, there's nothing I would like more than to be with the Scribes right now. But I'm here."

I give her a sad smile. "My parents sent me here, too. I think we'd both much rather be transcribing books right now, though."

Violet huffs, "Tell me about it."

Just then, a beautiful dark-skinned girl walks up to Violet and squeezes her shoulders. "We made it!" She yells.

Violet gives her a smile, but I can tell it's forced, "We made it."

"I can't thank you enough," the girl goes on. "There were at least three times I would have fallen off if you hadn't helped me. You were right—those soles were slick as shit. Have you seen the people around here? I swear I just saw a second-year with pink streaks in her hair, and one guy has dragon scales tattooed up his entire biceps. Oh, hi!" She says, suddenly turning towards me and offering a hand. “I’m Rhiannon Matthias. But you can call me Rhi."

Laughing a little, I take her hand. "Aurora Sallow. But you can call me Aurora."

"Aurora and I were in the Scribe Quadrant together." Violet tells Rhiannon.

“Well, it's nice to meet you," Rhi says. "Now, shall we go find the dragon scale tattoo guy? I'm very interested."

Rhi loops my arm with hers while her other loops with Violets as we walk. I can't help but notice Violet doesn't look too good. Whether it's nerves or a sickness, I can't tell.

Rhiannon doesn't seem to notice as she continues talking and hunting down this dragon tattoo guy. "Speaking of which," she says, "We need to trade boots. There's a bench—"

We all halt as a tall man in a black uniform steps out of the crowd charging toward us. My anxiety kicks in, and I scramble to the right, taking Rhiannon with me in my haste to escape. I forgot our arms were linked.

However, she must have let go of Violet's because Violet smacks right into this guy's chest.

"Violet?" the man asks. He obviously must know her, and I can see it in his eyes. He looks familiar to me, too, but I can't remember his name.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He barks. He looks mad. Really mad. I take another step back, again taking Rhi with me.

Violet's still looking up at him, but something's not right. She looks like she's about to pass out. "Dain. It's good to see you."

At that moment, her knees give out.

I unloop my arm from Rhi's and take a step towards her to help when this Dain guy beats me to it.

"Damn it, Violet," he mutters while hauling her back to her feet and bringing her to the bench.

Violet leans her head back against the wall. "I'm going to be sick."

"Head between your knees." Dain says, "It's the adrenaline. Give it a minute, and it will pass."

Not wanting to stand here and do absolutely nothing, I take a few steps towards my friend to help her when Dain whips his head towards me and frowns. "Who the hell are you?"

I freeze. "I'm Aurora, Violet's friend."

Dain continues to look at me with that intense expression. "Listen to me, Aurora. Violet is fine," he commands. "If anyone asks, you tell them exactly as I said, that it's just the adrenaline working out of her system. Do you understand?"

I narrow my eyes. "You don't need to act that way with me. I'm not going to go around telling everyone people's business."

"You better mean that." He warns.

"He's one of my oldest friends." Violet trembles from her spot on the bench.

Looking between them, I sensed there may have been more than just friendship involved. But I didn't say anything. "Oh."

"And a second-year rider, cadet."

I want to laugh. He says it like that title alone means he has a reason to act like a dick.

Newsflash, buddy, your attitude and your beard suck.

"My knee is sore," Violet whispers.

And that's when Dain becomes even more protective.

After Rhiannon and Violet trade shoes, Dain asks Violet if she trusts us, to which Violet nods.

"All right." He stands and turns towards us. "I'm Dain Aetos, the leader for Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing."

Man, I hope I'm not stuck with him as a leader.

"Parapet should be over in the next couple of hours, depending on how fast the candidates cross or fall. Go find the redhead with the roll—she usually carries a crossbow— and tell her that Dain Aetos put you and Violet Sorrengail into his squad."

Well, that hope of mine was short-lived.

"If she questions you, tell her she owes me for saving her ass at Threshing last year," Dain continues. "I'll bring Violet back to the courtyard shortly."

Rhi and I both glance at Violet to make sure she's okay, and she nods.

"Go before someone sees." Dain barks.

Rhi links her arm back with mine, and we walk back to the courtyard.

"He's… kinda intense, isn't he." She says to me as we continue walking.

"More like annoying," I say.

Violet's oldest friend or not, I didn't like Dain Aetos.

10 minutes later, Rhi and I are back in the courtyard with no sign of Violet anywhere.

"Do you think Violet's okay?" I asked Rhi. "She really didn't look too good."

Rhi looks over at me and gives me a small smile. "She'll be okay. I have full faith that she'll be okay. It really could have been just the adrenaline, as Dain said. The parapet is no joke, as you obviously know."

She's right. She has to be right. Violet will be okay.

A couple minutes later, a girl comes over and introduces herself. Her name's Tara and I can tell by the way Rhi is looking at her and the way she's soaking up everything Tara's saying that she's definitely interested in her.

Letting them talk, I take in my surroundings and freeze.

Standing not ten feet away is the most beautiful boy I've ever seen.

And he was staring right at me.

With blonde hair and eyes as blue as the ocean, he was captivating. He had a jawline I’m convinced was crafted by the gods and even though he’s wearing flight leathers, It’s not hard to tell he’s sculpted underneath. His arms were covered in ruins, which means he’s a marked one—

"There you are!" Rhi shouts, bringing my attention back to her.

We both see Violet and rush over to her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟLiam Mairi ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

I couldn't look away.

I know Xaden needed my undivided attention, but I couldn't help it being elsewhere.

Gods, this girl was beautiful. Long brown wavy hair that reaches her mid back, big brown eyes I could get lost in, pink-tinted lips.

She was the most stunning girl I've ever seen.

"Liam, are you even listening to me?" Xaden says, bringing me back to the present.

"No," I reply, not taking my eyes off the girl.

"What are you-"

Xaden doesn't get to finish his sentence because Garrick interrupts him. "He's looking at that girl."

Xaden scans the courtyard. "Which one?"

Garrick points at the stunning brunette, who has her attention elsewhere now.

When Xaden finds her, he narrows his eyes. "That's the girl who waved at me at the parapet."

Garrick looks over at Xaden, confused. "Do you know her?”

"I don't think so," Xaden says.

Then his attention moves to the girl she's talking to. She has long brown hair with silver streaks on the ends. I've never seen hair like that before.

As Xaden keeps staring at the silver-haired girl, my attention returns to the brunette by her side.

And my attention stays there during Commandant Panchek’s entire welcome speech.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fic #fourth wing x reader #iron flame #liam mairi #liam mairi x reader #xaden riorson #xaden x reader #violet and xaden #rhiannon matthias #ridoc gamlyn #sawyer henrick #garrick tavis #bodhi durran #dain aetos #x reader #fics #my fic

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